Tainted
by herebutnotremembered
Summary: Sammy was tainted now, and Dean had never regretted anything more than letting him go over to Max Anderson's.Warning very dark fic.Includes child rape.Can't stomach it, don't read it.You have been warned.
1. Chapter 1

Title: tainted 

**Author: herebutnotremembered**

**Rating: R**

**Summary: **_**Sammy never really trusted anyone in the same way again**_**. When the youngest Winchester makes a new friend, he finds out how dangerous human beings can really be. **

**Disclaimer: The boys don't belong to me.**

**Chapter 1 Fake Smiles**

Sam doesn't usually take well to other boys his age. Most of them are put off by Dean anyway, the other half don't like Sam's constant silence, not knowing that it is just the boy's nature. When Sam met Max Anderson, things changed. Dean noticed straight away. Sam would stay late at school nearly everyday, always making up such lame excuses he knew Dean would never believe. Dean encouraged his now teenage brother to pursue the friendship, and so of course, Sam did.

Their dad didn't usually stay in one town for long, but on the rare occasion they would be seemingly stuck in small towns for months at a time. This was one of those times. The hunt of a water wraith had lead them here, five months ago, and still they had no intent to leave. The school system was acceptable, according to Sammy, and the girls were acceptable according to Dean. Both boys had been happy to hear that they would be staying a little longer than originally planned and so Sam felt safe to continue his friendship with Max.

Max was a good kid, shy and kinda quiet until he got to know you. He was also very book smart, like Sammy. Dean thought that that was why the two got along so well. Not many other thirteen year olds were fascinated with books like those two were. Max was also…delicate. He often looked like he was underfed but would deny it whenever it was brought up. He blamed his size on his metabolism, and if that didn't work Sam's death glare at Dean sure did. Overall, Dean liked the kid. He had to, since Max was over nearly every other day, not caring that it was technically a motel room. "I don't mind, my house is just a trailer," the boy would say with a smile.

That was about the only thing that Dean didn't like about the kid, his smile.

There was almost something wrong with it, like it was never meant to be there. Dean could tell when it was fake, it would always have this forced, tense look to it. He could also tell when it was real, and it was often real around Sam. Max would smile and Dean would nod with his own fake grin, wondering what the kid was hiding behind that portrait of happiness.

The day had been shitty, rainy weather making it hard to go anywhere at all in the small town without a car. Dean had long since resigned himself to staying indoors watching t.v. while the boys read. John on the other hand was busy at work. He sat stoic at the small wooden table in the kitchen area, going over papers and his journal. "Dean," he called as he gathered the information together in a neat pile. Dean got up and went over quietly so as not to disturb the boy's homework. "What is it?" Dean asked curiously as he sat himself at the table beside his dad. "This thing I've been dealing with," John started in a quiet voice, looked over at the boys and continued. "It's a demon, not sure what kind yet, but it's powerful enough to kill the host when it leaves the body. It always leaves behind sulfer in the victim's mouth so it's not quite as invincible as it would like to think. I think I got an idea of where it's goin next. I'm gonna be outta here by dawn, you got my cell number," he finished and finally looked up at Dean who nodded silently.

"You need me?" he asked looking back at Sammy who was on his stomach on one of the beds. He always hated to leave him alone, but sometimes it was just necessary.

"No, you stay here with your brother. This thing likes…younger victims, teenagers mostly. Young blood and all that, no, I want you to stay here with your brother, make sure he's not left by himself. You got that?" he asked seriously, and nodded when Dean did.

"Ok, Oh wait! I got detention tomorrow," Dean admitted with a look of guilt. This was the second one this week. His dad sighed loudly, "Dean," he warned. "It wasn't all me, Kev was there too," Dean started but then John put up his hand and said "I don't wanna know." Dean's shoulders dropped, defeated, "so then what about Sammy?" he asked looking over to his little brother.

John's eyes lit up as he had a thought. "What if Sam went to Max's for once? Just until you get out of detention?" John suggested then turned to the boys on the bed. "Hey guys? I gotta go out of town tomorrow and I don't want Sam left here alone. He'll probably burn the place down or something," he said and grinned at Sam's look of indignation. "So I was thinking, why don't you go to Max's Sam?" John asked addressing his youngest. Sam shrugged his shoulders but Max had gone slightly white.

Dean watched the boy as Sam nodded then looked to Max for a definite answer. "Uh, yeah, for how long?" Max said and Dean could swear he detected a hint of worry in the kid's voice. "Just until Dean here gets out of detention. Shouldn't be all that long," John answered as he stood and put all the papers away. "Ok," Max consented with a smile.

Dean narrowed his eyes.

That smile was a fake one.

_Ok well first chapters done, on to the next! Tell me what you think. Oh and FYI this is a…a…a very dark fic so if you're delicate do not read on! Review if you like, I appreciate anything you have to say!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Malicious Smiles 

That night Dean sleeps uneasily, waking up every hour or so and checking on Sammy. He doesn't know why but he has a bad feeling about something. Something was off tonight, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. He watched Sammy sleeping soundly beside him for a while before laying back down. He tossed around a few times then finally drifted off to sleep wondering what was unsettling him.

The next day the weather is just as miserable. Dean glares at it through the window of the detention room. It had been raining now for three days straight. He sighed and went back to doodling on a scrap piece of paper wondering what Sammy was doing right now.

Sam walked with Max quickly through the trailer park looking for the trailer Max had described. "My dad should be at work, he gets off around five and, anyway, your brother should be done detention by then right?" he asked in a slightly shaky voice. Sam ignored it, figuring he was just cold from the icy rain that kept on falling. He himself was almost soaked right through and shivering slightly. "Why don't you want me to meet your dad?" Sam finally asked when they came to the end of the lot. "Well, it's just-I mean…he's not the nicest guy," Max said lamely and walked up the steps of a faded white trailer. He opened the door for Sam who scurried inside eager to get out of the rain.

Once they were inside they took off their coats, chatting idly about _Oliver Twist,_ the book they had been assigned to read. Sam followed Max to what he assumed was the bedroom but bumped into the other boy when he stopped abruptly. "Max what?" he asked with a hand on the boy's shoulder.

That's when he first saw him.

He assumed it was Max's father and the other boy was just surprised that he was home. Sam looked at the man, and he didn't like what he saw. Max's father was, well mean looking. His hair was thin and brown and lay flat against his head. His eyes were blue and tired looking and now they were roaming over Sam. He didn't like this man, but he didn't know why. "Hello there," he said in a strong voice. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure," he said as he walked towards them with his hand outstretched. "We uh, we were actually leaving. We just came to get some books," Max said tightly. The tone of his voice told Sam right away that this man was dangerous. How dangerous he couldn't be sure, perhaps he was just a violent drunk. Sam wished he could believe that that was all.

"Oh no, stay a while. We can hang out, I've been waiting for you," the man said with a smile.

Sam had never seen such a smile. It was cruel and almost taunting, nothing like Max's. This smile went to the man's eyes in a way that churned Sam's stomach. He could only give one word to a smile such as that…

Malicious.

Max was just standing there, seemingly frozen in place. "Well boy, aren't you gonna introduce me to your friend?" the man asked in a threatening voice and Sam knew they had to get out of there. "Uh, this is…Sam," Max said weakly turning to Sam and mouthing 'I'm sorry' to him before turning back to his dad. "Well Sam, I'm Jake. It's so very nice to meet you," he said with his hand outstretched again. Sam swallowed before taking it.

It happened fast, Jake yanked Sam forward by his hand then spun him around so that Sam's back was pressed against Jake's front. Sam panicked yelling for Max to run, to go get help.

Max just stood there.

Sam realized with sickening horror that Max wasn't going to do anything to help him. _This is not going to happen._ Sam thought and kicked Jake in the shin as hard as he could. Jake cried out and let go of Sam to hold his injured leg. "Max run! Go!" Sam yelled as he pushed the other boy towards the door. He had just about reached it when he heard Max yell from behind him. He heard something hit something else hard, and then silence.

Sam had never heard such silence.

He turned around slowly to see Max lying on the floor with his eyes closed, not moving. Knocked out. Sam breathed in slowly then looked up at Jake who stood above his son. "Good for nothing little brat," the man spat down at the unconscious boy. Then he looked Sam in the eye and smiled that malicious smile of his. "Well, he did bring me you," he said and lunged toward Sam quickly.

Sam cursed himself for being so slow to move but the horror of the situation was making him freeze with fear.

He struggled, he did. He tried to get out of the man's grip, but Jake was surprisingly strong. Funny, you wouldn't tell it by looking at him. Sam screamed and when Jake clamped a hand over his mouth he bit down hard. He did everything he could think of to get away. Every move Dean had ever taught him came into play, but they all failed against the larger man.

He was practically dragged into the bedroom and realized with a newborn fear what Jake intended to do with him. "No! No!" he yelled but his cries were met with a hard punch to his jaw. He saw stars and breathed in deep holding in the hiss of pain he was dying to unleash. He turned to Jake then and tried reason instead. "Listen, you-you don't want to do this, not really," he tried but Jake only laughed at him. "Boy, I've been doing this for as long as you've been alive," he replied with a sick grin. He tightened his hold on Sam and then shoved him onto the bed. Sam scrambled backward until his back was at the headboard. "I'll tell," he threatened weakly, "everyone will know what you've done. You'll be caught!"

Jake nodded in anger then crawled close and backhanded Sam. He got up and went over to the bedside table where he pulled open a drawer. Sam couldn't help but watch Jake's movements. He could feel blood dripping down his cheek and knew that the skin above his right eyebrow was split.

Jake then turned to him with that same smile. "I'll scream!" Sam threatened as he looked around for a window. When he looked back at Jake the man held a roll of duck tape in front of him. "No you won't," he said in a sickly sweet voice as he ripped off a piece. Sam yelled as loud as he could for as long as he could until Jake silenced him with the tape. A long strip was pushed against his mouth, killing his screams.

There was no escape now.

And Jake smiled his most malicious smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Pretty Smiles 

Sam lay on the bed completely still. Jake had gone into the other room about six minutes ago and Sam began to wonder if he was coming back. He tried to works his wrists free but the duck tape had been wrapped several times. He looked around but found no windows in the small trailer's bedroom. He silently wondered if that was why it was purchased. He also found himself wondering how long this had been going on. When did Jake start hurting his own son? His son's friends? A more troubling thought entered Sam's mind as he remembered Max mouthing 'I'm sorry' to him earlier. _Why wouldn't he do anything?_

It was all clearer now.

Max had been scared to bring Sam here. He had been scared that this would happen. Tears streamed down Sam's temples and into his hair when he thought about what Jake would likely do to him. A part of him wished that Jake were possessed. It would be easier than facing the truth that a regular person was doing this to him. Sam didn't like to think of people as evil, but that's what they were capable of.

Evil.

Jake returned then, with a bottle of brown liquid. Sam closed his eyes and groaned behind the tape. He was afraid that alcohol would play a part in this. Jake smiled at him, his eyes roaming Sam's body with lust in them. Sam looked away. He felt Jake's hand on his cheek, it was surprisingly soft. The man turned Sam's face towards him and watched as Sam stared at him. Taking another swig of the liquid he began to run his hands through Sam's hair. Sam cringed at the man's touch but bared it while it lasted. He knew what was to come.

When he turned thirteen Dean had warned him about men like Jake. Men who would think that Sam's young features were attractive. "Some men like that Sammy, they like it that you're young. Do you understand?" Dean had asked searching Sam's eyes for recognition. Sam had nodded, but he didn't understand….not really. Not until now.

"You're a pretty little thing aren't you? I ain't never had one so pretty I don't think," Jake rasped as his hands started to yank Sam's hair, forcing his head back. Sam made a noise behind the tape and squeezed his eyes shut. He hated himself for his attractive facial features. Many a girl had turned their head just to get another look at him when he'd walk by. He had always thought of it as a good thing, something to use against Dean if need be. Now he wished his soulful green eyes would turn to a murky grey that didn't attract older men.

"I bet you got a pretty smile too," Jake said lustily as he ran his hand down to Sam's pants. Sam tried to move away but then Jake produced something from behind his back. It was a small knife. Sam stilled instantly. "You like that boy? Pretty ain't it? Just like you." Jake unsheathed the weapon and started running the blunt side along Sam's face.

Sam wasn't afraid of weapons, growing up the way he and Dean had. He was however, scared of weapons in other people's hands. They were dangerous when people didn't know how to use them. Knives especially terrified him. A gunshot was quick, but a knife…a person like Jake could have fun with a knife. Slowly.

"Now boy, before we begin, I need to know how much time we have. Now when I ask you a question you answer with a nod or a shake of your pretty little head. Ok?" Jake asked and Sam shook his head yes, indicating that he understood. Jake smiled, pleased with Sam's compliance.

"Alright then, is someone coming to pick you up?" he asked and pressed the knife slightly against Sam's throat.

Sam nodded.

"Ok, are they coming in a few hours?" he asked holding the knife still.

Sam nodded again.

"In two hours?" Jake asked hopefully.

Sam decided against the truth. If Jake thought that Dean was coming sooner, he would be able to escape sooner.

He shook his head.

Jake sighed loudly, "alright, less?" he asked.

Sam nodded.

"In 1 hour?" he asked running the knife down to Sam's chest.

Sam nodded, deciding that if Jake thought that he was lying he'd keep him longer. Or hurt him more. "Ok then, we got one hour to play," Jake said happily as he placed the knife within reaching distance on the table.

Sam closed his eyes and thought of Dean. What was he doing right now? What would he say when he found out about this? What would he do? Sam felt another tear trail down to his hair when he thought about telling Dean. His big brother would be furious, and heartbroken all at the same time.

His thoughts were interrupted when Jake tugged on his belt, undoing it slowly. He unzipped his fly while he watched Sam's face for a reaction. When he was rid of his pants, he moved in to work on Sam's.

"Ok Sam, let me see that pretty smile."

_It's about to get very dark folks. You have been warned._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Cruel Smiles 

Happy places never exist when you want them to. Sam realized this as Jake slid the zipper on his pants down. The sound made him cringe and he closed his eyes again. He tried to imagine himself back in the motel room with Dean, cuddled up on the bed and watching some old movie, waiting for their dad to get home. He tried to feel Dean beside him, that gentle lean that offered such a comfort.

He couldn't picture it, not when Jake was sliding his pants down.

Sam made no move to help him. He didn't lift his hips to slide the jeans and boxers down easier. He didn't want this to be easy for the other man. "I'm gonna enjoy this," Jake stated cruelly as he slid a thumb across the tape covering Sam's mouth. Sam squeezed his eyes shut then sucked in a sharp breath.

Jake had taken him by the forearms and turned him over onto his stomach. Sam panicked as he realized that this was it. He took deep breaths trying to calm himself as he felt Jake position himself behind Sam. With a single hard thrust the older man was inside him.

The pain was nothing like Sam could ever imagine. He couldn't even compare it to anything he'd ever felt before. No stab wound or claw mark ha torn him like this. Sam pushed his face into the pillow as a few tears escaped his eyes. He thought about Dean and the way he had described the 'birds and the bees' to him not two weeks ago. He bit his lip as Jake started a faster rhythm. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to burn and sting and feel like your insides were being ripped apart. It wasn't supposed to bring tears and sobs.

It wasn't supposed to be with an older man who had no consent.

Sam cried out but the sound never left his mouth as Jake went a bit faster and harder. He wondered vaguely if he would black out from the pain. The thought terrified him. Jake could do anything to him without him even knowing about it.

He fought to stay awake.

The older man was grunting behind him but Sam couldn't hear him anymore. He felt a hot liquid run out of his entrance, but Jake hadn't finished, hadn't reached his climax.

Sam was bleeding.

He wondered what internal damage was being done as the man raped him. He had never hated and feared a single word so much before. Jake clutched Sam's forearms as he came closer to release, bringing a fresh wave of tears to the youngest Winchester's eyes.

He couldn't see anything anymore. He thought he might have passed out but he could still feel Jake inside of him. He could still feel the scratch of the sheets beneath him, still feel the warmth of Jake's breath against the back of his neck.

Suddenly a familiar voice started singing to him.

Sam breathed in deeply with the relief as he realized that the voice belonged to Dean. He thought he might be dreaming because he could hear his older brother as though Dean were there with him.

"_Exit light, enter night,_

_take my hand,_

_we're off to never never land,"_

Dean's singing guided him through the trauma until Jake pulled out of him with a wet popping sound. Sam thought he might be sick as he lay there half naked, with fluid slowly leaking out of him.

He felt a hand in his hair and then his head was yanked up sharply. "Was it good for you?" Jake asked tauntingly and then released Sam's hair to pull up his pants.

Sam turned himself onto his back using his hands to push himself up. Why Jake had bound his wrists together at the front hadn't been clear to Sam at first. Now he knew that if they were bound at the back it would have made raping him harder. His hands would have been in the way.

He sniffled and blinked the tears from his eyes as he looked up at Jake wondering if he was going to let him go now. He also wondered how the hell Jake thought he was going to get away with this. He had just raped a thirteen year old boy and he was acting like the experience hadn't even amused him.

Jake looked at him, cruel eyes boring into Sam. "C'mere," he said with a gesture to slide off the bed. Sam glared at him as he picked his pants and shorts off of the floor. He wriggled into them but cried out a few times when the pain became too much. He squeezed his eyes closed in humiliation as he buttoned his jeans then looked at the man who had raped him not minutes before.

"I want to show you something," Jake said as he grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt and dragged him into the main room of the trailer. Sam stumbled in front of Jake as the man pushed him. He stopped short in front of Max who still lay motionless on the floor. Upon closer inspection Sam could see a small pool of blood around the boy's neck. There was blood mingled in Max's hair and Sam knew he had been hit in the head with something.

"You tell anyone about this, and I'll kill him," Jake whispered harshly into Sam's ear.

So that was it. That was how Jake had been getting away with this. He threatened the friends Max brought home with the prospect of killing him. It was simple really, Max brought home a friend, Jake raped them, then told them he'd kill his son if they ever told. Sam kicked himself for being so stupid.

He then kicked Jake's shin again in the same place. He had to make his escape now. Jake screamed in agony and bent to hold his leg allowing Sam the chance to run. "You little bitch!" the man yelled as he moved towards the door.

Sam was half way across the trailer park when Jake got his last look at him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 Dean's smile 

Sam thought about not telling Dean at all.

He pulled his sweater tight around himself, shielding himself from the cold wind and rain that ravaged the small town. He was only four blocks away from the motel now, but it was slow going.

He felt his chest constrict as he went over what had happened again in his mind. He tried his best to hide his taped hands but there was hardly anyone out in this weather anyway. He felt tears flow freely down his face but he didn't care enough to wipe them away. The rain fell cold and unforgiving onto his face, mixing with his tears. He blew out a breath as he crossed the street.

He had ripped the tape off his mouth a few blocks back.

Try as he might he couldn't get the tape off of his wrists. He felt his breath hitch as what happened came rushing back at him, bringing with it a barrage of new emotions. Shame, fear, pain, grief, and utter humiliation swept through him all at once, making him feel sick again.

A couple streets back he had thrown up in an ally, clutching his stomach as it lost its contents.

He felt disgusting when he thought about it, but he hurt.

Inside.

He thought about what it meant to be broken. Truly broken without any fraction of hope. He felt broken inside, ripped to shreds and even walking hurt. He remembered the burn of Jake' large member inside of him, and swallowed to keep himself from getting sick again. The reality of it weighed heavily upon him. The assault was still fresh in his mind and body.

The motel came into view, but Sam could only stand in front of it. He looked at the parking lot noting the absence of the Impala. Dean wasn't home yet. A twinge of sadness overtook him as he moved toward the motel. He wanted Dean, he wanted his brother.

Sam felt a sinking feeling when he remembered that his dad was gone too. He was alone. He walked towards their room and stopped short in front of the door. A growl of frustration erupted from his mouth as he realized he didn't have his room key. In anger he kicked the wall as hard as he could then turned around and slid down it.

The rain poured down onto him as he at there unmoving. He didn't know how long he sat there, staring off into the street without really seeing it. He didn't know what to do anymore. Dad had taught them a lot about the world of the supernatural, but not a lot about the natural. Sam cringed and thought bitterly _this wasn't natural. _He wondered idly what would be done about this. What would happen to him now? What was Dean going to do when he got home? Sam knew his brother would be furious but then what? Dad? Police? What would they do?

Sam banged his head back against the wall and wriggled his trapped wrists again. The tape was binding and tight and Sam could see blood start to appear around the edges. It fascinated him as he sat there leaning against the wall. He wondered if he was bleeding somewhere else as well. An ache presented itself in his head and he remembered Jake's punches. He moved both hands up to touch his forehead. There he found blood, but it had dried.

The sound of an engine tore Sam's thoughts away from his injuries, and he looked up. The Impala pulled in an empty spot to Sam's left and then cut out as Dean shut it off. His brother opened the door and got out giving it a good slam before starting towards Sam.

Suddenly Sam wanted to hide. This was it, Dean would know now. A part of him had hoped that it could be forgotten or a bad dream, but now Dean was here. It was all real. Too real.

"Sammy why did you leave? I thought I told you I'd pick you up," Dean said as he approached his little brother. The rain drenched him quickly making his hair lie flat against his forehead. Sam waited for Dean to realize something was wrong. It didn't take long. His big brother then stopped in his tracks and stood for what seemed like a lifetime in front of Sam.

Dean's smile vanished.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 No more smiles 

"What happened?" Dean demanded as he lifted Sam by his forearms. Sam winced as Dean's hands covered the bruises left behind by Jake's unforgiving grip. "Dean, inside," Sam said weakly as he nodded toward the door of their room. Dean's eyes were frantic as he took in Sam's taped wrists and bleeding forehead. He quickly unlocked the door and ushered Sam inside.

The room didn't feel the same as it had when Sam had left that morning. He looked around with sad eyes. It looked the same. He wondered if everything would look different now.

"Ok now what the hell happened?" Dean asked after he had removed his jacked. His hands were on Sam's shoulders, but they soon moved down to his bound hands. Dean's touch was gentle and made Sam want to cry. "Dean," he said brokenly not really wanting to say anything else. He looked up at his brother and couldn't stop the few tears that made their way down his cheeks. A small sob escaped his throat as he thought weakly _I don't want to do this. _

Dean moved Sam over to the kitchen area where he procured a pair of scissors from a drawer. "Hold still," he said as he brought the scissors between Sam's hands and began to cut away the tape. Sam drew in a sharp breath as the tape spilt and his wrists were freed. Dean's touch remained careful as he peeled the tape from Sam's now bloody wrists, while he watched Sam for a reaction.

Sam put off telling Dean as long as he could. He remained silent as his brother cleaned and bandaged his wrists and applied antiseptic to the cut on his head. Despite Dean's attempts to get him to talk Sam's mouth never opened.

Now he had no choice. Dean had sat him down on the side of one of the beds while he sat on the other. Sam tried to avoid Dean's eyes but found himself wanting to look to see the comfort there. "Sammy, you need to tell me what happened," Dean probed gently as he took one of Sam's hands in his own. He felt somewhat helpless and looked down at Sammy's hand. His brother was shaking. Something seriously bad had happened to his Sammy and he intended to find out what.

Sam took a deep breath before recounting the awful events. "Max and I went to his place, and he thought his dad wouldn't be there. When we got inside, it turned out his dad was home," he had to stop as the emotions tried to crush him under their weight.

"Come on Sam, what happened? Did Max's dad do this?" Dean asked fretfully.

Sam nodded slowly, not looking at Dean. He seemed to curl into himself and Dean felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. "Sam what did he do?" he asked, but he found he no longer wanted to know.

Sam grimaced and turned his head. The younger boy squeezed his eyes closed and started to shake with silent sobs. Dean felt the panic grow in his chest as he asked again "Sammy what did he do?"

He wanted so badly to reach out to Dean, but at the same time he wanted no one to ever know about what had happened to him. He never wanted to be touched again. He risked a glance up at Dean and the concern in his brother's eyes made him reply. "He knocked Max out," he started and then took a deep breath. Dean put a hand on his knee to comfort him but Sam jerked away.

Something was very wrong. This went beyond abuse, and that scared Dean to no end. He watched with sickening dread as Sam locked his legs together at the knees. Dean tried to remember to breathe as he realized what must have happened. _Be strong, he needs you right now. _"Sam…did he….did he touch you?" he asked with great difficulty. Sam looked up at him and had never looked so young to Dean. He nodded sadly with disgust in his eyes.

Dean felt the bottom drop out. He had never felt it before, but he felt it now. A swooshing feeling went through his chest as his mind tried to comprehend what had been revealed. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as he took deep breaths. He looked at Sam, at his Sammy, and what he saw there made him break. Fearful eyes filled with tears of utter agony looked up at him with regret. Those eyes tried hard to hide a pain that went so deep he could feel it inside, tearing him apart.

His Sammy had been raped.

Sam watched as Dean reacted to the revelation. It hurt to tell him, but he knew that Dean had to know so he pressed on. "He hit me, taped my mouth, and my hands…" he rubbed the bandages on the hand that was held by Dean and stared at it intently.

Dean leaned forward, looking Sam straight in the eye. "Sammy, where did he touch you?" he asked gently and watched as Sam's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"He…he…" Sam started but found he couldn't finish. Dean nodded in encouragement "it's ok, just tell me baby. Where did he touch you?" he asked not taking his eyes off of Sam's. Sam looked up at Dean's choice nickname. He hadn't called him that in years.

"He was inside of me."

It slipped out unchecked and once it was out there, both brother's broke in its wake.

Sam screwed up his face and brought both his hands up to cover it. Tears fell like rain down his flushed cheeks. No taking it back now. No pretending it was all a nightmare. It was true…it had been real. Sam unconsciously started sobbing from the loss of his secret. He wanted it to go away and never be mentioned or talked about again. He wanted to be where he was yesterday, blissfully unaware of the cruelty of humans. His shoulders shook as he cried and he leaned forward, hating that Dean had to see him like this but glad he was there.

Dean sat still emotions boiling over, eyes filling quickly. Sammy had been raped. The fact that his little brother had been brutalized while he was passing notes in detention made Dean sick. He watched as Sammy folded in on himself and shook with sobs. Dean tried to push past the shock he felt to be there for Sam, but he was having a hard time with it.

Sammy was his…well, _his. _He had belonged to Dean ever since he was placed in his arms as an infant. Sure dad was there and very much their father but in retrospect, Sammy was his. _His_ brother, _his _best friend,_ his. _This wasn't supposed to happen. Dean felt it as if the pain Sammy endured was his own. He just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that his baby had been raped.

He had never felt his heart break before. No girl had ever gotten close enough to him to create a break when her presence was gone again. No harsh lesson had ever brought tears to his eyes. No hateful fight had ever brought him to his knees. But this, this was different. This was world ending, mind numbing reality and Dean found he nearly couldn't deal with that.

Sam's throat hurt from the cries that spilled out but he couldn't stop them. He slid off of the bed and onto the rough carpet on the floor. This was not happening, not to him. He never thought anything like this would ever happen to him, but it did, it has. He felt Dean's arms slide around him and pull him towards that warmth that Sam so easily melted into. He moved as close to Dean as he could but never took his hands off of his face. He didn't want to reveal himself to the world just yet and so he stayed there, his face in Dean's chest, his big brother's arms wrapped around him, holding him still.

"Oh god, Sammy," Dean breathed as the pain of the truth hit him hard. Why did this have to happen to Sam of all people? Sammy who smiled at strangers, Sammy who got straight A's and helped others with their work, Sammy who always had to be helping, making dinner, cleaning weapons, offering comfort. Sammy who had been so innocent. "I'm sorry kiddo," Dean found himself saying as he rested his head atop his baby brother's.

Sammy only cried harder at Dean's whispered apology and tried yet again to get even closer to his brother. "Shh, Sammy, it's…." he couldn't say it. It wouldn't be true anyway. _This is not ok. _"I'm right here," he offered instead and knew that that was a promise that would be kept. He wasn't leaving Sammy ever again.

"Dean," Sam said in despair as he lifted his head off his brother's shoulder and took his hands away from his face. His eyes were puffy and his throat was sore but something hurt more just then. Dean's eyes were filled with tears that refused to spill over and his body was trembling. Sam looked at him for a moment before putting his arms around him. He hugged Dean this time, trying his best to offer comfort and strength that he didn't have right now. "It'll be ok Dean," he said in the strongest tone he could manage.

Dean took a deep breath before taking Sammy by his forearms and gently pushing him back. He looked carefully at his baby brother, his baby, then sighed. There were things to be done. Things that couldn't wait.

"Sammy, I have to call dad," he said gently, not knowing how Sam would feel about the fact. Sam turned his head away as more tears of anguish made their way down his already wet face. "Sammy, I have to, we have to get you…checked out. I need to take you to the hospital baby. I'm sorry but…I don't know how to fix this alone." The small admission made Sam turn back to him with a slightly more composed look. He nodded but didn't say anything as Dean got up and extended a hand to Sam. Sam looked at it for a second before taking it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

He had no idea how long he and Dean had been sitting down there, crying with each other, but it felt like only minutes. He thought back to this morning when he had waved goodbye to Dean before going to school. It had been the longest day, and it was only 5:30.

"Ok just sit tight for a sec," Dean said as he gently pushed Sam down to sit on the end of the bed. His hand lingered on Sam's shoulder for a minute before he pulled away to find his cell phone. Sam watched him with a lost look on his face. He didn't know what to do anymore, and the feeling of just existing without purpose saddened him even more.

Dean dialed dad's number with shaking fingers as he looked at Sammy. This would be the hardest thing he ever had to tell his dad. _God I hate this, this whole thing shouldn't be happening. _ "Dean?" his father's voice asked over the phone and Dean jumped at the sound of it. "Yeah dad it's me, look…" he took a breath then looked at Sam. His little brother had gone slightly pale and his lower lip was trembling. Dean turned the phone away and addressed Sam, "Sammy? I'm just gone talk to him in the kitchen ok?" he asked in a soft voice. He didn't know how Sam would feel about being far from Dean and he wanted to make sure. Sam nodded then turned his attention to his damaged wrists.

Once in the kitchen Dean made sure to speak more quietly so Sammy wouldn't hear. "Dad, something happened. Sammy went over to Max's and his father was there, and…" he had to take a breath before he admitted this to his father. "Dean what? Is Sam alright?" John asked angrily as worry gripped him. Dean sighed in defeat, "he was raped dad."

The silence was palpable and heavy and for a moment Dean wondered if he would drown in it. Then he heard something that brought that sting back to his eyes. His dad was crying, and trying unsuccessfully to hide it. Dean bit his lip as the sounds died away. "Dean I want you to take Sammy to the hospital, I'll be there in a few hours," his dad said in a shaking voice and then he hung up.

Dean clicked his phone shut and squeezed his eyes closed. This was all too much, how was he supposed to do this? How was Sammy doing this? Thinking about Sam, he turned back to his brother who sat unbelievably still on the bed where Dean left him.

Dean walked over to him slowly and watched as Sam looked up at him. The look in those green orbs made Dean's chest ache. "What did he say?" Sam asked in a rough voice. Dean kneeled down in front of Sammy and put a hand on his knee. This time Sam didn't jerk away. "He said to take you to the hospital, he's on his way," Dean replied all the while watching Sammy's face. His brother nodded then closed his eyes as a single tear fell. Dean brought his hand up slowly to wipe it away. Sammy was hot to the touch and Dean wondered with panic if something was wrong…inside.

"Come on, we gotta go," Dean said softly but firmly as he stood up. Sam stood slowly, wincing as he did so. Dean felt rage then, how dare that asshole break his brother like this. He took extra care in handling his little brother as he lead Sam back out into the rain.

The weather seemed completely appropriate now.

He opened the passenger door for Sammy then shut it again when he was inside. His legs shook as he got in the driver's seat next to Sam. The boy felt different. He looked like a wild animal that wasn't ready to be tamed and Dean found himself just staring for a moment. Sammy seemed to sense Dean's distress and moved closer until he was right up against Dean's side.

Dean sighed, thankful that Sam was still allowing himself to be touched. He gently put an arm around Sammy's shoulders and swallowed when he felt them shaking. "I'm right here," Dean whispered as he pulled Sam closer to him. Sam sighed tiredly and rested his head on Dean's shoulder while Dean pulled out of the parking lot. His face felt stretched and tired, like crying had taken all that he had out of him. He bit his lip and wondered if he'd ever smile again.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 Forced Smiles 

The waiting room was cold and noisy and Sam found himself clinging tightly to Dean's arm as they sat there waiting for a doctor. Dean was silent but reassuring while they waited, looking over every now and then with a small smile. Sam drew comfort from the feel of his brother's hand clenched tightly in his. He looked around only to find the same setting as before.

People looked at him as though they knew something was wrong. Perhaps it was the frightened look that lingered in his eyes, perhaps it was the way he gripped Dean's hand, perhaps they knew. Sam hated to think that it was obvious he had been…no, he still couldn't say it. He swallowed and looked to Dean again. What he was seeking he didn't know.

"You ok?" Dean asked tightly as he gave Sam's hand a gentle squeeze. He wasn't even sure Sam could feel it anymore. Sam took a deep breath then nodded. "Dean…what are they gonna do to me?" he asked in a shaking voice. Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. "I don't know baby, but I'll be right there with you," he affirmed and watched as Sam's eyes grew wide. "Unless you don't want me to," Dean quickly added and nodded when Sam relaxed a little. The tests would be pretty invasive, so Dean understood Sam's need for his big brother to not be there.

Both brothers froze up as a man in his late 40's approached them. Dean stood up pulling Sammy along with him as the doctor came to stop in front of them. "Hello, I'm Dr. Wilson and I'll be handling Sam's case. You're Sam I presume?" he asked as he stared at the thirteen year old. Sam nodded with his eyes cast downward. He tried to block out what the doctor said before he ushered them to an exam room.

The smell of anti septic made Sam cringe with distaste as they entered the overly lit room. The walls were painted a light blue and the lights were beaming making the room a lot brighter than the waiting room. Sam waited for his eyes to adjust before tuning in to the conversation.

"With situations like this, we try to take every measure to ensure the comfort of the victim," he heard Dr. Wilson say and the words made him shrink into himself. _Victim_, such a stupid word, Sam thought as he watched Dean nod along with the good Doctor. He just wanted all this over with. "Now Sam, I'd like to ask you a few questions about the attack if you don't mind?" Dr. Wilson asked gently as he turned his attention to the youngest Winchester. Sam swallowed his panic and nodded, looking at Dean who shifter closer to him. "Good, now we can stop any time if you need to," he went on as he poised his pen over a clipboard. "Now, Sam why don't you tell me what happened in regards to where you were touched" he asked watching the boy for reactions.

Sam sucked in a breath and felt his chest heave with the effort to breathe in deeply. He didn't want to do this anymore. He didn't want this man, this stranger to know where Jake had touched him. He bit his lip while taking deep breaths. Dean's hand was on his arm offering solid comfort as he watched Sammy panic. "It's ok," Dean said reassuringly then glared at the doctor slightly.

"Um…he-he…god…he was…he," Sam tried to get the words out but they were so goddamned hard to say. The doctor nodded knowingly and helped him out. "Ok Sam, let me ask you this. Was there penetration?"

Ok, that was a little easier and Sam found himself nodding in relief that he didn't have to say it. He squeezed his eyes shut as Dean's gaze burned into him. "Alright, Sam…I'd like to perform a few tests if that's alright with you." It wasn't a question. Sam knew this had to happen, he had to go through with this…but Dean didn't. "Can my brother wait…somewhere else?" he asked in a quiet voice as he snuck a glance at Dean. "Absolutely," Dr. Wilson answered as he wrote something else on his clipboard.

Dean turned to him then with eyes glassy and focused. "You sure you're gonna be ok?" he asked gently with both hands on Sam's shoulders. Sam breathed in deeply then nodded with a small smile. "I'll be fine, just…stay close?" he asked tentatively. Dean nodded then ruffled Sam's hair affectionately, "I'll be right down the hall," he said firmly then turned to the doctor. "How long is this gonna take?" he asked with his hands still on Sam's shoulders. He didn't quite want to give the kid up just yet. "Ah, shouldn't be too long, ten…twenty minutes," the doctor answered without looking up.

Dean turned back to Sam who had been watching him the entire time, "ok I'll be right down the hall ok? You need me, you yell for me. Understand?" he asked protectively while looking Sam right in the eye. Sam nodded with a small smile and watched as Dean left the room.

The tests were invasive and uncomfortable and Sam sort of felt like he'd been raped all over again. When he found Dean sitting in the waiting room he had a patch of guaze over his left eyebrow and a bandaid over the pin prick in his right arm. Dean bolted to his feet upon seeing Sam and immediately went to him. Sam's lower lip was trembling again and Dean kicked himself for not staying with him.

"How'd it go?" he asked gently and watched as Sam grimaced and looked away. "Ok, it's ok, we're getting outta here soon," he assured then froze when Sam turned and hugged him fiercely. The surprise wore off quickly and he returned the embrace, rubbing his brother's back soothingly. "Dean," Sam said brokenly and somehow Dean knew what he was talking about. "I know, I'm right here," he said tenderly as he ran a hand through his brothers chocolate locks.

Turns out they weren't getting out of there soon. Police showed up to talk to the doctors but when they tried to talk to Sam Dean nearly got himself arrested just to spare Sammy the ordeal of talking about this again. Dean was told they wouldn't be able to leave without a parent and so here they sat. Sammy had his head resting on Dean's shoulder and Dean had his arm around Sammy's shoulders in a comfortable position.

When a familiar voice drifted over to them they both sat up and watched as their father demanded to know where his sons were. Dean got up quickly and walked over to their dad, Sammy trailing behind him. "Dad," Dean called and watched as John spun around and upon seeing his youngest, pulled Sam to him. "Oh thank god, Sammy are you alright?" he asked as he hugged his son. Sam on the other hand began to struggle in his dad's embrace, suddenly needing to be away from the man. Dean picked up on it right away, knowing something wasn't right. "Dad take it easy, you're scaring him," he stated as he pulled his dad's arm back, allowing Sammy to get loose.

Sam breathed in deeply now that he was free and sent a thankful look Dean's way. Dean nodded and wasn't surprised in the least when Sam moved towards him. He knew it must have been a punch in the face to their dad. Here Sammy was gladly holding on to Dean when he had just struggled to get away from his dad. Dean felt guilt sweep through him but then there was Sammy in his arms and he couldn't bring himself to care that much. "Dad, he's just not comfortable around people right now," he offered as he rubbed Sam's back again. The kid was shaking in his arms. John nodded then asked about what the doctor had said. Dean replied that he didn't know, they wouldn't tell him anything. Sammy still shook in his embrace and Dean found he had a hard time answering his father's questions. "Ok, you boys go sit down, I'll see what's going on," John said then turned towards the registration desk.

Dean hated the idea of keeping Sammy here any longer but he knew that if something was wrong…internally, then this was the place to be. He held on for another minute before aiding Sammy back over to the slightly less crowed waiting room.

"Dean I don't wanna stay here," Sam said quietly once they were seated again. Dean's arm was around Sammy in the same position as it had been for the last two hours. A pang went through his heart at his younger brother's words and he moved the hand up to stroke Sammy's hair. "I know, but hey dad's here now. You know he'll get us outta here soon," he comforted but Sam seemed to burrow closer to Dean at the mention of their dad. Dean decided not to comment on it just now and continued to stroke Sam's hair. He prayed that nothing was wrong with his brother so that they could take him home. He just wanted to take him home.

Fifteen minutes later John came back from talking with the doctor, a grim look on his face. "Come on boys," he said quietly upon seeing Sammy half asleep. Dean shook the boy gently then got up and stretched. Sam looked around with tired eyes then up at their dad. "Can we go?" he asked in a cracked voice then stood only to wince as he did so. He wondered how long it would hurt like this.

"Yeah we can go now," his dad said and raised a hand to guide Sam out of the hospital. Sam flinched at the action unconsciously and stood as far from their dad as he could. He hated that his dad was making him nervous but he couldn't help it. Everything was scaring him right now, well, everything except Dean.

Out it the parking lot Dean knew that John wanted Sammy to ride with him back to the motel but when Dean opened the driver's side door, Sammy crawled right in. Dean gave his dad an apologetic glance before sliding in himself. "Sammy…" he began but then his little brother turned his gaze towards Dean with those glassy eyes and Dean's question died away.

The ride back was slow and Sam had to wonder if Dean was doing it on purpose. "How you doing?" Dean asked gently and looked over at Sam for a reaction. His little brother nodded and did his best to sound confident when he replied, "I'm here." He forced a small smile when Dean glanced at him but it instantly faded once Dean's gaze was directed to the road. The ache in his chest hadn't gone away yet and only grew deeper when Sam wondered if it would ever go away. He hated to think he'd feel like this forever, but he didn't know how these things were supposed to feel.

Dean put a reassuring hand on his knee as they pulled into the motel parking lot. He cut the engine then sighed before turning to Sam. The boy looked absolutely wrecked and Dean couldn't help but give his brother's knee a gentle squeeze. "You know…dad's gonna wanna talk to you," he stated in a regretful tone as he stared at Sammy. Sam didn't look up but nodded and gave another forced smile.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 Dad's smile 

The air is tense and the Winchesters are quiet as they stand around awkwardly in the middle of the room. Sam fidgets with his sweater while trying to avoid his brother and father's gaze. John tries to catch Sammy's eye, desperate for some kind of connection but his youngest is avoiding him. Dean, well Dean doesn't quite know what to do so he shifts his gaze to Sammy.

He looks different to Dean, tired and hurt. It shows in the lines under his eyes, the thin line of his lips, the slightly hunched shoulders. Dean wonders what will happen, if this is the way it's gonna be from now on. He hates to think that Sammy might never be the way he was, all bright eyes and true smiles. For the first time Dean looks at Sam and realizes that they might not get through this.

"Why don't you go take a shower Sammy?" their dad finally says carefully trying to catch Sam's gaze. Sam looks down at himself and realizes how dirty he actually feels. His clothes look the same, but the rest…

"Ok," he says quietly and moves slowly to the bathroom locking the door behind him. John lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding before turning to Dean with angry eyes. "I want you to tell me everything you know," he stated angrily and Dean shivered at the ferocity in his dad's voice. "Dad, can't this wait?" he asked looking towards the bathroom door. "No Dean, it really can't. Now come on, sit down and start talking," he said while he ushered Dean over to the table in the tiny kitchen.

Dean sighed, he really didn't want to do this right now, hell, ever. He closed his eyes as the memory of seeing his baby brother sitting in the rain with his wrists taped together came rushing back at him. John sat patiently, waiting for the explanation he so desperately needed. The doctor was thorough about the aftermath, but John still didn't know what had happened in the beginning. He watched as Dean hardened himself and then recounted the events in a strong voice. He was almost proud of his eldest son.

"I got out of detention at about 5:00, and went to go pick up Sammy at Max's. When I got there, Max's dad said that Sammy went home early, claiming that he needed to do homework. The bastard didn't know that Sammy and Max always did their homework together, so I started to panic a little. I didn't see him out anywhere while I was driving back to the motel, but when I got there…" he swallowed hard as Sammy's broken expression came back to him. "Sammy…he…he was sitting in the rain on our doorstep. I guess he didn't take his key. I-I saw his wrists…they were wrapped in duct tape and…they were starting to bleed…" this was too much. Too much emotion, and too much hurt. It was too fresh. Dean then realized that if he said it now…maybe he'd never have to say it again.

He took a deep breath.

"I took him inside-he wouldn't say a word for a while. I took the tape off, cleaned his wrists then sat him down on the bed and asked what had happened again. He told me that Max didn't think his dad would be home…" The anger at the shy boy's father was nearly overpowering then and Dean found himself growing hot in the face with rage. "He said that Max's dad knocked him out, and he…he hit Sammy. I don't know a lot but I could tell something worse had happened. I could…he was….he flinched when I touched his knee. I asked him if he was touched…in a way he shouldn't have been and he aid yes. When I asked where he was touched he…" and then the pain again. He didn't want to be talking anymore. He didn't want to think about it ever again. Such an emotional moment he'd had with Sammy upon first finding out. He wasn't eager to relive it with his dad. John leaned forward then and put a comforting hand on Dean's shaking one. Funny, he didn't even realize that he was shaking.

"Dean, just tell me son," John almost whispered in a pleading voice. Ok, here came the hard part. "He said that…he said that Max's dad was," he had to cringe before saying it, "inside of him."

Not much information in retrospect but it was enough to bring John Winchester to tears. They fell silent and unchecked as the hunter processed everything. Dean leaned back in his chair suddenly feeling like he had no right to be here. He'd never seen his dad so completely broken before, it made him scared and hurt all at the same time.

Dean dragged a tired hand through his hair then realized that the shower was turned off. He looked at the bathroom door and remembered that Sammy didn't take any other clothes with him. He knew his dad was a little too far gone at the moment so he made Sammy his responsibility. "Dad, I'm just gonna," he pointed towards the bathroom and John nodded in silent understanding. They'd have to deal with Sammy being uncomfortable around their dad soon, but not tonight.

Dean went through Sam's bag until he found a shirt with long sleeves. He hated that this is how it would be for a while but he knew why it was. Sammy would want to be covered as much as possible right now. Clothes in hand he went to the bathroom door and knocked gently. "Sam its me, you forgot your clothes," he said as he entered the tiny bathroom. He stopped short however upon seeing Sammy sitting on the floor with a large towel wrapped around him.

"Oh Sammy," Dean whispered as he wondered how long Sam had been sitting there, wet and cold. He shut the door and then knelt down in front of his baby brother. "Hey, you ok?" he asked softly as he took in Sam's disheveled appearance. His hair was wet and clinging to the sides of his face and he was shaking violently with chills. "I can't get it off Dean," he said quietly as he looked up at his older brother. "Can't get what off?" Dean asked as he reached out to rub Sam's arms until the kid was warm again. "Him," Sam stated angrily and his eyes suddenly turned cold. Dean sucked in a breath at his brother's statement and had to close his eyes before he could look at Sammy again. This is what was supposed to happen, he reminded himself. Sammy had been violated, he had every right to feel hatred towards his attacker, but, Sammy had never looked like that before.

"I know, but you need to get dressed before you get a cold," he ordered softly as he handed Sam his clothes. The younger Winchester looked down at them in his hands for a minute before he looked up at Dean expectantly. "Want me to leave?" Dean asked not quite knowing what to do. He didn't know how much Sam valued privacy right now, so he thought it best to ask. "No…just….turn around," Sam replied then looked away from his brother with flushed cheeks. He didn't want to be alone, but he didn't want Dean to see him either.

Dean nodded and got up and turned around. God this was weird, but there was no way in hell he was leaving Sam alone if he didn't want him to. After a few minutes silence was all that filled the void between them and Dean wondered for a second what to do now. "Sam? You good?" he asked turning his head slightly. "Yeah," his little brother said quietly and Dean turned to see him rubbing his wrists. "Hey, try not to do that ok? You gotta let them heal," Dean commanded as he took Sammy's shaking hands in his own. Sam sniffled and for a minute Dean thought he was going to cry, but his little brother took a deep breath and looked at him with indifferent eyes.

_No, no, Sammy don't hide from me. _ He hoped it wouldn't go this way. Sammy had a tendency to internalize everything he felt in order to hide it from the world. It's what they'd always been taught, but not this time. Dean promised himself that he would make Sam talk about this when the time was right. For now all he could do was guide Sam back out into the main room, and then over to their bed.

John was surprisingly still present, and still sitting at the table. Dean half expected him to be out tracking down Sammy's rapist. It's what he himself wanted to do more than anything, but then there was Sammy. Sammy who adopted this broken expression, Sammy who started shaking so easily now, Sammy who lost something that he would never be able to get back.

That thought hadn't entered Dean's head until now. This was Sam's first time. He felt sick as he looked at Sammy, thirteen year old Sammy, sitting there on the bed looking down at the floor. Suddenly he couldn't breathe as he thought of all that rape implied. This was all wrong! It wasn't supposed to be like this! Not with Sammy!

He couldn't be here, not right now. He had to get out of this room. He could still see Sammy sliding off the bed and onto the floor. He could still hear those damn words, _he was inside of me. _He stormed towards the door and flung it open. It wasn't raining anymore.

He didn't leave the parking lot, he just stood in the middle of it and screamed. He screamed out all of his rage and hurt until his voice broke and tears cascaded down his face. He didn't even care who heard him, or saw him. Nothing really mattered like it had once upon a time ago.

Sammy, his precious baby Sammy…raped. It was wrong, like a gigantic cosmic mistake and he wondered if the universe realized what they had done. What had slipped through the plan of life. This was never meant to happen, he knew that for sure. How could any God or deity allow this to happen to his Sammy?

All of a sudden he was on his knees and the hard ground was biting at his skin through his jeans. He felt utterly defeated in that moment. Weak and powerless, and unable to stop this from happening. He knew it wasn't his fault, he knew that if he let guilt overtake him there would be no way he'd be able to be there for Sam.

_Sam_.

It was as if a light switch had been clicked on in his brain and he remembered that Sammy was back in the motel. He'd left…he'd walked out on Sammy. God how could he? He swallowed his torment and climbed to his feet. Sammy needed him right now…perhaps more than ever before. He tried to catch his breath as he walked back towards the room.

His dad was packing when he stepped back in. Sammy still sat in the same place and Dean's legs carried him to his little brother. "Dad?" he asked as he rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. He needed the contact and from the way Sam leaned into the touch, he guessed he needed it too. "We're leaving first thing in the morning, I want you packed by then," he replied sternly as he shoved more clothes into a bag. Dean nodded then looked to Sam for his reaction. Sammy just nodded in agreement. Part of Dean wished he would fight back like he'd begun to do ever since he turned thirteen, but Sammy remained silent.

Dean expected nightmares to plague Sammy's mind that night, but nightmares require sleep and sleep…Sam did not. Their dad slumbered in the other bed, his deep breathing letting Dean know that he was truly asleep. He turned to Sam then and watched as his brother pretended to sleep beside him. "Sammy…you have to sleep sometime," he whispered to his brother and Sammy's eyes shot open. He thought he could fool Dean, silly boy. He swallowed hard then turned over towards Dean. "I don't wanna sleep," he admitted in a whisper. Dean sighed and reached a hand out to Sam. Sammy met him halfway with his own cold hand and interlaced their fingers. "I know you don't, but if you don't sleep you'll just get sick. You know that," he said gently as he gripped Sammy's hand tighter.

He felt like the whole world had turned on him. The betrayal ran deeper when he thought of how much he thought of the world before all this. He looked at Dean and wondered how his big brother had been jaded. Dean was always like that, the world's out to get us, disappointment is inevitable, that pessimistic attitude Sam could never understand. He understood now though, boy did he ever.

"Dean, why did this happen?" he asked not looking in hi brother's eyes. He felt Dean shift closer to him but made sure to keep his eyes on the wall behind Dean. "I…I really don't know Sammy. But I want you to know something right now ok?" he asked firmly while still keeping his voice at a whisper. "Hey, look at me," he commanded gently and when Sam's sad eyes met his he said confidently "this is in no way your fault." Sam sighed as the weight in his chest lifted slightly. He'd already known that of course, but it was good to hear it from Dean.

"I know it wasn't, but why did it happen? Why me?" he said and cringed at the pitiful question. He hated to make himself the center of things but he needed to know. Dean seemed to be thinking about how to answer him and then his eyes changed, registering an emotion Sam recognized as determination. "Sammy, sometimes, some things…they just happen. Things that were never meant to happen to good people sometimes do. The way I see it…it's just a mistake," he stopped and watched Sammy for a reaction. Sam only nodded at him to keep going. "See, I know I don't believe in God, but I do believe that there might be some greater plan for all us humans. Things like this…what happened to you…it was never in this plan. It was just something that slipped through and no one noticed. It was never meant to happen though, but…I guess it's what makes people. Experiences shape us, you know? This is just some big mistake that the universe made, and now it's too late to take it back. Now we have to deal with it, and move on, and hope that no more mistakes are made." He was left more confident when he finished talking and for a moment he froze. Sam was looking at him in awe, the kind of awe that made Dean feel like he was King Kong on cocaine. The kind of awe that made him his brother's hero.

"I think you're right," Sammy said in wonderment and Dean could just see the wheels in his head turning as he processed Dean's explanation. "Dude, I'm always right," Dean said jokingly hoping to lighten the tense mood. Sam looked at him again and Dean was sure he could see his little brother's eyes smiling. The smile didn't reach the rest of his face, but it was a start. Sam the moved as close to Dean as he could, closing his eyes as he did so. Dean was glad the kid decided to sleep, even if it was four in the morning. He welcomed Sam with open arms and held his baby brother while he slept, nightmare free.

John turned over in bed and watched Dean and Sam breathing practically in sync with each other. He was proud of his boys, more so than he had ever been. That pride showed itself in a smile.

**Hey, I just want to give a shout out to all those who reviewed, I've loved hearing from you, and I'm so glad the fic has inspired such emotion. There will be more chapters to come soon, so keep a look out and keep talking to me, I'd love to hear from ya! Thanks again, your words are important to me!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 Absent Smiles 

Morning came with no memory of the night before for Sam. He awoke early and in the arms of his brother. A nice surprise but not all that uncommon between the two. He disentangled himself from Dean and slid carefully out of bed. He hated to wake his brother when it wasn't necessary, and besides, Dean was always in a good mood when he got plenty of sleep.

John was no where to be found, not all that uncommon either, except this time there was no note and no message on Dean's cell. Sam stopped and looked around the room, an uncertain feeling creeping into his chest. Something was off…wrong. He just couldn't place it. He looked to Dean who still lay sleeping where Sam had left him, and decided that he was just being paranoid. Nothing was wrong.

He decided to grab a shower before Dean got up and went over to his bag that still lay on the floor with Dean's. Funny, all his clothes were stuffed into it. Had Dean? He sat back on the balls of his feet as he processed this. His bag was packed, his dad was gone, and Dean was still asleep. Sam reached into his bag then froze.

His wrists were bandaged.

His wrists were bandaged because they had been taped.

They had been taped because he had been raped yesterday.

His breath started hitching before he could stop the onslaught. Tears fell unwanted down his cheeks as the memories of his attack came rushing back at him. His mouth had been taped shut. His hands had been taped together. Jake had been inside of him. _I'll bet you got a real pretty smile. _Those words, so wrong for a parent to say, replayed over and over again in Sam's mind.

He hurt. He hurt way down deep and he wasn't sure anyone could ever dig the pain out. His chest constricted as sobs overtook him. He tried to be quiet in his torment but Dean awoke at the first cry. He sat up in bed and looked around the room frantically for Sam. When he saw him at the end of the bed on the floor, he breathed a little easier. Then he registered Sammy's cries.

He quickly got off the bed and came to Sam from behind.

This was the wrong move.

As Dean put his hands on the boy's shoulders Sammy jerked and cried out as if he'd been struck. "Sammy, Sammy, whoa it's me! It's just me!" Dean pleaded, his hands up in surrender. Sam breathed heavily as he watched Dean lower his hands slowly. "You…you scared me," Sam said shakily as he moved a bit closer to Dean on the floor. "Yeah I got that, I'm sorry," Dean replied sadly. Sammy used to be able to detect danger from a mile away, the kid almost had a sixth sense, but now…

Now Sam sat shaking slightly on the floor.

"Sammy, why are you down here?" Dean asked looking towards Sam's packed bag. Sam looked at it too…forlornly. "I…I forgot about what happened yesterday." It was humiliating to say the least, and Sam could feel both cheeks burning as he watched Dean for a reaction. Dean nodded then tentatively reached out a hand to pull Sam to him. Sam sighed as he watched Dean's careful movements. "I'm not afraid of you Dean," he said with a small smirk. Dean knew this to be true, but Sam was afraid of a lot right now and they'd have to deal with that. "C'mere," he said gently as the hand on Sam's shoulder pulled slightly. Sam came willingly, sliding as close as he could get to Dean before settling in his arms.

Dean held him there on the floor, almost mirroring their last encounter down there. It was all so fresh. The middle Winchester looked towards the door as the thought of what his dad was doing right now ran through his head. He knew that John Winchester wouldn't let Sammy's rapist live, he just wondered how it would be done. The thought made him shudder and feel good at the same time. "Dean?" Sammy asked, feeling the tremor that went through his older brother. Dean pulled back and looked at him for a long moment.

Those green eyes held so much, nearly overflowing with emotion. Dean searched them for something other than pain, but nothing but that hurtful truth showed itself in Sammy's eyes. "You ok?" he asked seriously, needing to know. He felt like he should do something, but he didn't know what. Sam looked to the floor and wished he could lie to Dean. "No," he replied regretfully and then looked up to see Dean watching him. He couldn't take his brother's gaze and so he looked back at the floor. His gaze drifted over to his wrists, the white bandage a stark contrast against Sam's tan skin. He hated that there was such proof of his attack. People might ask, would definitely wonder. It would be too much for Sam.

"Sam, look…I know I can't say much to help you right now, but…I'm here. If you need me, I'm here, always." That small declaration went straight to the heart and Sam found himself wanting Dean to hold him again. Instead, he decided to show some small semblance of strength and opted to rest his head on Dean's shoulder. His brother was so solid, such proof of reality that Sam almost smiled.

Then he remembered a not so real interaction with Dean. He remembered laying on a messy bed in a foreign place, he remembered the feeling of being violated from behind, but most of all he remembered Dean's soft voice singing him through the misery he endured. _Take my hand, we're off to never never land._

He pulled away abruptly, causing Dean to look at him in that way that Sam hated. It was a look that held fear, and Sammy hated to see his brother afraid. Worst of all, he knew Dean was afraid because of Sam. Afraid he'd hurt him or scared him or reminded him of the attack in some way. Sam knew that he'd have to let Dean know in some way that he was the only thing keeping him together right now. He just didn't know how he was supposed to prove that to him.

"Hey why don't you go get in the shower and I'll try to make something resembling breakfast," Dean suggested with a fake smile. Sam sighed, that was ok, he could do this. He knew how to deal with Dean, been doing it all his life. "No, you didn't get one last night, and besides, you can't cook and you know it," Sammy replied with a small smirk. Dean drew in a deep breath as he considered Sam's words. It was true, Sammy was the master chef in the family, and maybe cooking would help keep his mind off of…other things. "Fine."

He'd been sitting there not ten minutes before the door unlocked and opened slowly. "It's just me boys," John's voice warned when he saw the shotgun in Dean's hands. Sam hadn't even seen Dean move. He hated spacing out and then coming back to find the world disturbed and not the same as when you left it. Dean lowered the gun with a sigh of relief and nodded to their dad. John's eyes told of murder, and so he made sure not to look Sammy directly in the eye. Dean however, was another story.

Sam didn't move from his position at the table, as John walked over to the counter and poured himself a cup of what was probably cold coffee. Dean slid back into the chair he had vacated only seconds ago and rested his head on the palm of his right hand. He didn't know how he was going to find out anything if Sammy was right here with them. They'd have to tread carefully.

John took a few quick gulps before sitting down across from Sam, who was watching him like a hawk. He feared his youngest would want to know how he had handled the situation, but there was no way in all hell he was going to tell Sammy the truth. He'd been more than violent with Jake but he still felt that the man got off easy. He'd have to mellow out his story for Sammy's sensitive ears, he just didn't know how he'd go about doing it.

Luckily, Sammy saved him from that task.

He finally let his gaze drop from John's face…down to his hands. His heart seemed to freeze in his very chest as he took in the blood staining his father's hands. Jake's blood…on his daddy's hands. His stomach clenched as he tried to stop the memory of something warm and sticky oozing out of him as Jake pulled out. It was no good.

"Sam?" Dean said taking in Sammy's horrified expression. The boy had gone completely white, his eyes wide and glassy, his jaw clenching. "Sammy are you-" he never got to finish that question as he watched his younger brother bolt into the bathroom and slam the door shut. Sounds of retching could be heard and Dean cringed before he turned away. This was his chance, he had to take it.

"Dad what happened? What did you do to him?" he asked quickly, listening for any indication that Sam was coming back. John sighed with regret that Dean had to know what he'd done to the man who had raped his precious baby son. He knew Dean would never let it lie, he'd push until the question sparked an argument and then it would get ugly. No, better to do it now, while Sammy couldn't hear. Rip the bandaid off, so to speak.

"I found the boy, Max…he was dead Dean," he took a minute to let that sink in and watched as Dean's expression went from shocked to saddened to despair. "What? Are you sure?" he asked weakly, hoping it was a lie, but knowing that it couldn't be. Sammy would be crushed. He already knew that he couldn't tell him, not now, not when he'd been brutalized just yesterday. God the whole ordeal had felt like years, when in reality it had only been two days. "Dean, we cannot tell Sammy, not when everything is still so fresh. We wait a few months and then tell him. You hear me?" John asked gruffly as he tried to catch his son's eye. Dean looked at him hard but then nodded his consent. He needed to hear the rest.

"I hope you made him pay," Dean ground out then looked to the bathroom door. The thought 'why Sammy?' went through his head again and he rubbed a hand over his face as he listened for his dad's answer. "Jake's not gonna come after anybody ever again," John said curtly as he too glanced at the door to the bathroom, praying Sam would come out and release him of his duty to recount what he had done.

Dean looked at him condescendingly, "dad, come on," he said as he twirled a pencil in his hands. "Tell me," it wasn't a request, and though John hated to, he began to tell Dean what had happened. He told him how he found the bastard in a room at the back of the trailer, downing a bottle of Jack Daniels. He told him how he subdued Jake who was surprisingly sober even though half of the bottle was gone. He told him how he taped the man's hands and mouth. He told him how he talked to the man, menacingly, cruelly. He told Dean how he took Jakes taped hands and shot a bullet through the right one, and how it exited through the left. He told him that there was a lot of blood, that it couldn't be helped. He told him what he said to Jake…

Before he shot his dick off.

Dean almost smiled at his dad when he heard what his dad had done. It was so poetic and ironic and a thousand other words that Dean couldn't think of. He didn't hide the smile that crept onto his face as he looked down at the table. It was justice in it's truest form. The man had killed his son, had raped Sammy and probably dozens of other kids, who knows what else he had done. This felt right to Dean. To hell with the law and the legal system, no jail could ever rectify what had been done to Sammy and all the other kids. No punishment would be good enough for the man but death. Dean nodded and closed his eyes when he heard the sink in the bathroom running.

Even though the man was…wait. "Dad, you…you did kill him right?" he asked looking up at his father and hoping that he didn't just let him go. John nodded, "I shot him point blank then set the trailer on fire. That's why we gotta move soon," he said urgently as he got up and looked out the window. From there you could see the street and John was more than a little relieved that no fire trucks rushed by. They wouldn't have much time.

Sammy came out a minute later looking pale and shaky as he made his way over to stand by Dean's chair. He looked to Dean with a question burning in his eyes. Dean nodded, understanding completely. _Is he dead? Did dad do it? Is it safe? _All thoughts that plagued the youngest suddenly vanished with a nod of his big brother's head. Jake was dead.

Sam turned away from the table and went to sit on the bed he shared with Dean. Something still pulled at his heart, something still felt horrible inside of him. He supposed it was just the effects of the rape, but he couldn't be sure. He knew he'd never trust anyone else the same way ever again. He worried what this would do to him in the long run. Would he be damaged permanently? Would this haunt his steps and hide in the corners of his mind forever? He rubbed his hand over his bandaged wrist and looked up at Dean.

Jake was dead, but that didn't mean that it was over.

**Hey everybody, thank you so much for both your reviews and your patience they both mean a lot! Sorry this chapter took so long, but I had a hard time deciding how to approach the issue of the revenge on Jake. If you want more details then tell me in your reviews and I'll insert it into the next chapter. Don't worry the angst isn't over, Sammy has a long road of recovery ahead of him! Keep reviewing! It keeps me writing! Love ya all for your support, thanx!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 trying to smile 

The bags were packed and in the car, it was time to go. Sam looked around the motel room one last time as he stood, backpack in hand in the doorway of their room. It looked ordinary, rundown even, but to Sam no place had ever held such experience. He felt Dean nudge him gently and he snapped out of his reverie. No use dwelling right now, there would be time for that later.

"I don't know about you two but I'd really like to leave now," John called from his place at the driver's side of the truck. He watched as Sammy took one last look around the room then walked slowly over to the Impala. A pang went through John as he watched Sam climb into the car. His youngest always rode with Dean but John couldn't shake the desire for Sam to be with him right now. Feeling guilty for having such selfish thoughts John nodded to Dean then climbed into the truck.

"How you doing kiddo? You ready to get out of here?" Dean asked in a friendly tone as he started the car up. Sam stared at Dean for a long minute then closed his eyes and sighed. He hated that his brother was walking on egg shells around him, but at the same time he couldn't care enough to tell him to stop. Dean could deal with this however he wanted to, so Sam only nodded then looked out his window.

He didn't know how he felt about getting out of the town, and he tried to remember the good times as the scenery flew by outside his window. He remembered his first day at the new school. Dean had taken him and patted him on the back and said everything would be ok. He remembered the first time he met Max. He had taken a seat in the desk beside him and started a small conversation on Dickens's classic novels. He remembered Max's smile as he talked to Sam, like he'd never been shown such kindness before. He remembered wanting to protect max from the world, thinking that the boy had seen too much but never knowing the full extent. He remembered taking Max to meet Dean, how Dean smiled and made with the small talk, all the while giving Sam a sly smirk. He remembers the night Dean said that he was glad Sam had made such a good friend.

Then Sam remembered something else.

He remembered walking with max to the trailer park. He remembered Max looking around a lot, as if checking for something. He remembers the blood when Jake had bashed Max's head in to knock him out.

He didn't mean to, but he sniffled, instantly alerting Dean to his distress. "Hey you ok?" he asked looking away from the road and to his brother. Sam was biting his lip and shaking ever so slightly. Dammit, what had happened? "I'm fine," Sammy said as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. He hated looking weak and giving Dean more incentive to be careful around him, but this was just too much.

"Sam," Dean said gently as he rested his hand on his brother's shoulder. Sam melted into the touch, needing the contact more than he realized. "I want to forget Dean," he said despairingly as he looked at Dean. His brother nodded and looked at Sam again. "You will," he promised and the hand on his shoulder had suddenly fisted the fabric of his sweater. Sam knew what that meant. Grateful that Dean was allowing yet another chick flick moment, he slid over beside Dean. The closeness made him feel a little better, a little safer, and Sam thought maybe he would forget.

"Listen, I know it isn't what you wanna hear," Dean started as he wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders and pulled him flush against his side. "But, it's gonna take some time to get over everything that happened here," he said regretfully a Sam sagged slightly against him. It was as if the boy had just deflated, his emotions a balloon, and Dean's words, a needle.

"I want to be over now," Sam despaired as he rested his head on his brother's shoulder. No statement had ever been more true. He just wanted to skip the hurt, the pain and memory and just live again. He wanted more than anything to jump ahead to a time when this didn't affect him anymore. He felt Dean draw in a deep breath before his brother spoke. "Sammy, listen…things are gonna get rough, you and I both know that, but…I'm here kiddo. I'll be here, I promise," and with that determined vow Dean made sure to keep eye contact with Sammy. The broken yet grateful expression that met his gaze nearly shattered his own heart all over again, but the Sammy smiled.

It was small and fleeting but it had been there. Dean turned back to the road and fisted the material of Sammy's sweater with the hand that laid on the younger boy's shoulder. He decided right then and there that he would be there. No matter what Sammy did or said, he would be there for him.

Because nothing in the world was as bright as Sammy's smile, and Dean longed to see it again.

**Hey guys, you have all been so amazing and so patient and I just want to thank you for that! Next chapter's coming soon, but I would like some suggestions if you don't mind. I'm having a hard time deciding how to portray Sam going through this. I'm not sure if he should be angry or depressed or scared or hell, all of the above! Anyway, help a girl out, give me your thoughts and thanx again for reading! Love you all for the support!**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 Dean's Smile 

Four hours of shifting positions and endless driving found the Winchesters in Springfield Illinois. A smile graced Dean's face when he noticed Sam perking up a bit once they rolled into town. The sites and sounds were getting to the younger boy and he easily became enthused, watching out his window as all those historical buildings passed them by. Dean had glanced over every now and then to check on Sam throughout the long drive, and hadn't once seen him so…himself.

He expected Sammy to be sullen and skittish, but this…this was almost too much incentive to hope. It was as if the…incident had never occurred. As if their lives had never changed for the worse, yet again, and Sammy…Sammy seemed untouched.

Until they stopped at the diner.

Their dad had rolled to a stop across the street from a lively diner that sat between two aged and graying buildings. Dean parked just behind the truck and got out quickly, glad for the chance to stretch his legs. He loved the road, but he hated the toll it took on his body.

The city was sunny and lively and Dean breathed it all in with a smile. "Who would have known that the simpsons town could look so proper," Dean joked as he pocketed his keys and looked to Sam. His brother smirked and retorted quickly, "I don't think this is the actual town that the simpsons are based off of," and he looked around. "Aw, you just haven't seen as many episodes as I have Sammy," Dean replied with a smile, glad that Sam was bantering with him.

"You boys hungry?" John asked as he approached them, shoving his hands in his pockets. Dean nodded then turned his gaze towards the small diner, effectively missing Sam's small shudder.

It was a little past noon and so the restaurant was still slightly busy. John lead the boys over to a booth near the window and took a seat. Dean waited for Sam to sit down before sliding in himself, as if he could protect Sammy, just by sitting near the entrance. Sometimes he wondered how his subconscious came up with these ideas.

Sam took a deep breath as he looked around the establishment. It was nice, sunny yellow walls with pictures framed in wood. It felt like a family place and maybe that's what put Sam at ease for the time being.

"Hey there, what'll it be?" a young perky brunette asked as she poised her pen over a small note pad. John ordered for himself, then Dean took his turn and then they were stuck in silence. Turning slightly to look at Sam, Dean nudged him with his elbow. The younger boy looked up suddenly at the waitress as if realizing her presence for the first time.

Dean grew worried then, even as Sammy ordered and turned back to look outside the window, Dean watched in concern. He hoped it wouldn't go this way, that Sammy would try to internalize his pain, but…if that's what it took for him to deal, well then…

"So, you boys ready to stop and find a motel or should we keep on goin?" John asked, trying to bring Sam's attention back to him and Dean. That far off look in his youngest's eyes unsettled him to no end. "Well, it's only what? 12:45? We could make it a few more towns before stopping…that is…where are we going anyway?" Dean asked suddenly realizing he was driving blind. He looked at Sammy who had his head rested on his right palm, elbow propped up on the table, staring intently at the salt shaker.

"Sammy?" Dean prodded, but no reaction from his brother moved him to a slightly louder tone. "Sam!" he said and watched as his little brother's head swiveled towards him. He didn't like this one bit, the zoning out. It made him uneasy, like Sammy was somewhere even he could not reach him.

"What?" Sam asked in an annoyed tone and then promptly went back to staring at the salt shaker. Dean knew he must have looked surprised, but he hadn't seen the annoyance that occupied his brother for a while now. The fact that Sammy was annoyed with him, well, it kin of shocked him. Hours before he was resting his head on Dean's shoulder, seeking comfort and protection, and now, now he got the distinct impression that Sam wanted to be alone.

"Do you think we should stay here, or move on before sundown?" Dean asked in irritation. He knew he shouldn't be mad, Sammy was just going through the motions but damn, it stung a bit.

Sam just shrugged nonchalantly and graduated to picking up the salt shaker an toying with it. "Doesn't matter," he said roughly, without looking at either Dean or his dad. Dean's shoulders slumped as he looked at his dad. John was just staring intently at Sam who wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Well, I say we keep going," Dean stated, and turned his attention back at Sam, hoping for some kind of reaction. The boy didn't give any, and Dean sighed at the thought of dealing with this new bitter, disinterested Sam. He knew how to deal with his baby brother, had done it all his life and was more of an expert than his father could ever be, but sometimes Sam surprised him so much in a single action, and he forgot what to do.

Sam shifted away from Dean, hoping his brother wouldn't notice. He didn't want to hurt him, but he suddenly felt as if he couldn't stand to be near him. He was still babying him, tiptoeing around the issue and Sam was getting a little more than annoyed. His cheeks burned with anger that went unchecked as he thought of what the next few days, weeks, months, would be like with these two. He almost smiled bitterly as he thought of what it took to get their attention the way he had right now. He'd always wanted them to include him in their plans, not just drag him along for the ride, and now here they were, wanting his opinion, and he didn't want to give it. Let them tiptoe and be careful around me, he thought as he poured some salt into his hand.

They ate their meals in an uncomfortable silence, two trying to catch the youngest's eye, one trying to avoid the their gaze. It was taut and awkward and by the time the bill cam all three let out a breath of relief. "I'll pay, you boys go get in the car," John said lightly and then turned and headed for the counter.

Dean watched as Sam grabbed his sweater and headed for the exit without him. He hurried to catch up, but Sam had wanted to loose him and so was ahead by quite a few paces. It was then that it happened. A stranger, a man entering the diner while Sam was leaving. The boy bumped into him in his haste to get away from Dean and now stood still as the man's words assaulted him. "Watch where you're going pretty boy," said the man as he turned to look at Sam.

Sam was frozen in place and all he could do was look at the man. That touch, the touch of someone else, someone not Dean or dad. It scared him, made him feel weak and assaulted and he was ashamed to hear that voice in his head again. _I bet you got a real pretty smile. _Like it was just said, just now in the middle of a damn diner. He shuddered as the man looked at him, waiting for a response, and still he couldn't ay anything.

The sun warmed his arm, the one that still held the door open. It was almost an invitation to escape, but Sam couldn't get away. "Hey, I'm talking to you," the guy said angrily, no doubt wondering what the hell his problem was. Sam stuttered before growing silent, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

And then there was Dean.

"Hey, is there a problem here?" Dean asked as he moved to stand next to Sam. He could tell his brother was visibly shaken and if the guy standing in front of him had anything to do with it he'd tear him a new one. The guy looked at Dean then at Sam before shaking his head and walking away.

Sam let out a breath he didn't know he was holding then exited the diner as fast as he could with Dean hot on his heels. He felt Dean's hand on his arm before he heard his brother's plea. "Sammy, wait come on, what was that?" he asked as he pulled the boy towards the car.

Sam could only look at the ground as Dean stared him down. He didn't want to talk, in fact he thought it would be perfectly fine if he never said another word ever again. "Sam!" Dean yelled when his brother wouldn't look at him. "What happened?" he asked again, gentler this time. Sam looked up at him then, his green eyes swimming with tears.

"Nothing happened Dean…ok?" he aid firmly, even as his eyes filled with salty water. That was it, nothing happened, nothing was wrong. Not if he said so. He looked to Dean expectantly then jutted his chin slightly, asking Dean to defy him.

Dean understood then. This wasn't some temporary mood swing making Sammy sullen and withdrawn. This was something else, something Dean feared he couldn't defeat if Sam held onto it. He looked at his baby brother, watching him for a reaction. The hard eyes, the jutted chin, the clenched jaw. Dean swallowed as he nodded and simultaneously accepted defeat.

_Nothing happened Dean…ok?_

Dean swiped a hand down his face as he watched Sammy get into the car. It all made sense now, and he cursed himself for not seeing it before.

Sammy was in denial.

**Hey guys, thanx so much for your feedback, I really appreciate it. Hope you liked this chap, my muse really whacked me over the head with this one. Keep reviewing, I love to hear from you and I hope you liked it!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 Sad Smiles 

Dean watched Sam carefully that night. They had stopped a couple towns away from Springfield, needing a rest from the constant driving, at a motel called the 'Blue Stix'. John had gone out a while ago to stock up on items for the first aid kit, and Dean sensed that his dad also had to get away from Sam. The silence between the boy and his family was suffocating and Dean himself would have liked a reprieve from the constant tension, but then there was Sam.

Sam sat reading one of his books, making sure not to look up at Dean, who was sitting beside him watching television on the small black and white t.v. Every now and then the boy would shudder for a quick second, but then it was gone and so Dean never said anything about it. Perhaps he was cold…yeah right. Despite the warm temperature, Sam still wore long sleeves and occasionally a sweater.

It was no secret that Dean worried for his little brother. Every new experience, every new emotional development, Dean saw Sam through it all. This however, was different. This would have to be handled carefully with plenty of patience. Dean wasn't one for waiting, but whenever it came to Sam, he had the patience of a saint. He thinks maybe that's why John and Sam fight the way they do. Sam argues until he's shouting and John just doesn't have the patience to deal with him the way he should. The way Dean does. He usually doesn't take sides in the arguments, but he can understand Sammy's frustration with their father. John gives orders, John demands certain things from them, it doesn't occur to him what Sam might want.

He breathes in deep then lets it out slowly, trying to keep an eye on Sam without the younger boy noticing. Looking at him now, he seems so fragile to Dean, like any moment he might splinter and break if you press on him to hard. He looks small, sitting next to Dean, barely touching. His bangs fall into his eyes as he stares hard at the words on the page and Dean wonders if he really sees them at all.

"Stop it Dean," Sam says with quiet anger. Dean can almost feel Sam's blood boiling. "Stop what?" he asks indifferently, and that earn him a hard glare from the other boy, "you know what." Dean sighs, he hates stepping lightly around the issue, but he hates to talk about it as well, and so he can only argue with himself. "Sammy…" he starts but then Sam gets up and charges towards the door, suddenly needing to be elsewhere again.

It happens fast but in no time Dean's got the younger boy pinned against the wall with his arms crushed between his chest and Dean's. "What the hell do you think you're doing huh? Where do you think you can go?" Dean asks and though the panic clouds his mind, he still notes the sudden fear in Sammy's eyes. "Dean you need to let me go," Sam say quietly as he takes a deep breath and attempts to break free. Dean hold him still though, unknowing of the painful memories he's forcing to the surface. "Oh yeah, why? You gonna walk out that door? Get yourself attacked again?"

There is silence like Dean's never heard and he realizes suddenly what he's just said. Hi mouth opens in horror as he watches Sam's eyes widen with betrayal. He lets go of Sammy's arms and watches helplessly as the boy slide to the floor. Dean's breathing fast now, going over what he said to Sam again and again, kicking himself for being so ruthlessly blunt with his baby brother. He tries to rationalize why he said what he said, but he knows that guilt will not allow him peace any time soon. He was scared, he didn't want Sammy out there at night, alone. He didn't want anything else to happen to the youngest Winchester. Fear made Dean angry and drastic and now…

Now Sammy was on the floor, shaking again. Christ. "Sam…I…" but what can Dean say? What could erase that? Instead he kneels in front of Sam and looks into the boy's eyes. The shine with tears and anger now. "So it's my fault is it?" he spits out angrily and then pushes himself to his feet. Dean follows with his hands raised, "no Sammy, that's not what I-" but something has been released and Sam starts yelling at him. "That is what you meant and you know it! It was my fault! I went there with Max! I didn't fight hard enough! I tried to get him to leave! To make him go get help but he wouldn't! He wouldn't!" and there are tears and Dean tries to hold him but Sam shoves him away.

"No! I used every move you ever taught me on him, but I couldn't fight him off! He dragged me into that room and onto that bed and I let him! I let him! Even when he was grabbing the tape and the knife I didn't move! I couldn't move Dean!" he yells and tiny sobs escape with his words and he can feel the tension draining and the fear returning but he can't stop his recount of that day. "I could have gotten away! I could have! I…I'm not like you Dean! I'm not a fighter! I can't hunt, I can't save anyone! If I could have just gotten away…then he…he wouldn't have!" anger now, at himself for being so weak, for not trying hard enough, for being too scared to move.

"Sammy, this is not your fault, you know that!" Dean yells as he takes Sam by his forearms and shakes him. As if he could shake realization into him. Sam cries then, looking at Dean with ad eyes. "That's what you're supposed to ay Dean! They all say that! But if it wasn't my fault then I could have gotten away, but instead I got raped!"

The word is finally out, and it seems as if the whole world goes silent to listen to what will happen next. Sam's eyes widen at what he just aid and his breath speeds up. Rape. That's what happened, that's what he went through. His face I wet but he doesn't care, the weight of the truth has lifted once again and he can feel denial leave him forever.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 **Painful Smiles

"Sammy," Dean whispers in despair as he realizes that Sam is about to break completely. "Sam it wasn't your fault, it was his!" he says angrily but he isn't getting through to the other boy. Dean can feel his heart racing, waiting for Sam to make a move. His brother just looks at him for a moment then his eyes turn hard and he breaks away. Taken aback, Dean can only watch as Sam moves a few paces away from him.

This, Dean can deal with. The Sam who needs him, but doesn't want him. He walks towards the boy carefully, saying his name to alert him to his presence. "Dean, don't," Sam warns, but Dean continues anyway. When he's no more than a few inches from Sam, Dean grabs him. He holds on as Sam struggles in his grasp. Sam needs this, Dean knows. The comfort that he always feels foolish for asking, now Dean's giving it willingly.

"Dean let me go!" Sam demands as he bucks and tries to get away but his body just isn't into an escape. He can feel the sobs form in his throat and fill the silence, and he can feel those despicable tears as they run down his flushed cheeks. He hates this, this emotion that he has no power over. Dean holds onto him throughout it all and then Sam's falling. He hits the ground easily, with Dean catching him halfway. "Dean…" and it's all he can say now. He's said enough as it is. He turns towards his brother now, face buried in Dean's chest, arms around Dean, holding on for dear life. He wants this, but never asks for it. It's not the Winchester way after all, do what you do and shut up about it. This, this crying and holding and comforting, was never in the manual.

But now, now with Dean whispering words of comfort and rubbing his back and rocking slightly, Sam forgets why they don't do this.

He feels it, all of it. All the pain and anger and fear of the situation rises to the surface and the pressure of all that emotion has done this. He couldn't stop crying if he wanted to, and the sobs only seemed to grow in intensity as time passed on. His throat constricted and ached as he cried, but still he couldn't find a reason to stop. "Shhh," Dean soothed, but Sam can't. Something broke inside and now all the pent up emotion is running free.

Dean doesn't try to stop him, doesn't try to tell him that everything will be alright because in truth, he doesn't know if it will be. He wishes that he had the answers that Sammy needs, but he can't even find them for himself. He doesn't know why this happened, but he was sure it was an accident, he is sure that this was never in the cards for Sammy. The thought makes him clutch at Sam harder, pulling his younger brother flush against his own body. He can feel the fabric covering his shoulder dampen with Sam's tears and suddenly his own cheeks are wet with salty water. "I'm here Sammy, I'm right here," he promises and runs a sure hand through Sam's hair, smoothing and stroking, anything to offer the other boy comfort.

"Dean, I can't," Sammy says after a while and whatever it is he can't do makes him cry even harder. Dean can feel his eyebrows furrow in confusion as he pulls back to look at Sam. "You can't what?" he asks in a voice much gentler than he's used to using. Sam sniffles and his shoulders shake as he looks at Dean. "I can't do this…I don't want it to be like this," he says and covers his face after he does, trying to hide the pain so obviously displayed there. Dean can feel his chest tighten in fear as he contemplates the possible meanings behind that statement. "Sam, I know it's hard but," he pulls Sam's hands away from his face and grabs his brother's chin, making sure Sam's looking him in the eye, "we will get through this. I am gonna get you through this."

Sam swallows and jerks his chin away, blinking rapidly as he glares at a spot on the floor. Not the reaction Dean expected. "Hey," he says loudly, louder and harsher than he intended but Sam's throwing him off a little bit. When his brother looks at him again his eyes are guarded and narrowed. Dean doesn't know where this is coming from, and his next words only served to startle them both. "Sam, if you don't want me to help you, than just say so."

The younger brother sat stunned for almost a full minute, lending evidence to Dean that maybe he wasn't as needed as he thought. He took the other boy's silence for agreement and decided that he didn't want to be rejected this way. "Fine, all you had to do was say so," Dean says and gets up to move towards the door. His hand reaches for the doorknob when he hears Sammy yell his name.

Sam can't contemplate much after what Dean had just said. He never thought that maybe Dean didn't want to have to deal with him anymore. It never even crossed his mind that Dean didn't actually care either way whether he helped Sam through this or not. But when Dean says fine and heads towards the door it's like a switch is thrown and he's shoved back into reality again.

"Dean! Wait!" he yells and is up off the floor before he knows what he's doing. Dean turns just in time to see Sam coming at him. He falters for a moment, not so sure that Dean would want to help now, but the look on his brother's face tells all. It's that 'I knew you would come to your senses, I was never gonna leave' look, the one that Sam hates with a passion.

"Dean, I…I'm sorry. I do want you with me, helping. I just…" but he can't finish as his throat seems to close and he can feel that damn sting enter his eyes. God damn why he can't stop crying is beyond him. He hates himself for this display of weakness but that's all he feels now. Weak.

Dean moves quickly, putting a hand on Sammy's shoulder and squeezing affectionately before pulling the boy to him. The night has been one great big chick flick moment but he doesn't mind at all, not when it's this serious. He sighs when he feels Sam start to shake in the embrace and decides to lead him over to sit on the bed. Sam doesn't seem to eager to let go so Dean thinks some reassurance is in order. "Sam, I'm not going anywhere, but…you gotta let me in pal," he say gently as he sits Sam down on the bed.

"I know, and…I don't know. I just can't think about it right now and I try not to but it all comes back so quickly," Sam despairs as he rubs a shaking hand over his eyes. Dean nods then heads to the bathroom, he knows the signs of a headache when he sees them. "Dean?" Sam cries out when he looks up and Dean's gone. He knows he's never felt so pathetic in his entire life but the terror doesn't allow him to care. He never imagined himself this needy but the thought of Dean leaving him is just an unacceptable possibility. Dean comes out a moment later looking alarmed, "Sammy? You ok?" he asks as he walks around the bed and kneels down in front of Sam.

Sam nods slowly, then looks towards the door, "I thought you might have…" he doesn't want to finish as he recalls Dean's words that were promised not seconds ago _I'm not going anywhere. _Dean nods again and claps him on the shoulder. "Here, take these," he says as he pushes asprin into Sam's still shaking hand. Sam wallows them dry then moves to lie down on the bed. He hates this wide array of emotions that seem to be attacking him all at once. He wants to cry and yell and scream and he's too tired to do any of them now.

Dean moves to lay down next to him, a simple reassurance of his earlier promise. He watches Sam for a moment the turns his attention towards the ceiling. Life had seemed so simple not two days ago. School, hunting, Sam, it was a routine they had down nicely. It was their lives, but now.

"When's dad getting back?" Sam asked as he continued to rub his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his noise trying anything to offer relief from the pounding in his temples. "Soon, probably," Dean aid lightly as he counted the spots on the stucco roof. Life was never simple for a Winchester. The unfairness of the situation hit him hard again and he looked to his side to see Sam close his eyes. "Just relax dude, it'll go away," Dean said as he turned his head and closed his own eyes.

"No Dean, I don't think it will."

Somehow Dean knew Sam wasn't talking about a headache.

**Hey guys, so so so sorry for the long wait, but here it is! I hope you're liking it and I hope you keep on reading as there is more angst to come! Don't worry, the next chap will be up much sooner. So, if you like where it's going tell me and if you don't, give me suggestions, I love hearing from you, and you've all been so great with the encouragment! Thanks again, and I hope you're liking it!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 No Smile   
"_Some men like that Sammy, they like that you're young. Do you understand?" He did now, he understood. Hands gripped his hair, hands bigger than Dean's, rougher than dad's. These hands shouldn't be touching him, but they were. They pulled down his pants and yanked on his hair. They held him down. "You're a pretty little thing aren't you?"_   
"Stop it!" he screamed as he awoke. The room was blurry and out of focus but as sleep hazed as he was, he still felt those hands on him. They gripped his arms hard and weren't letting go. Sam felt his heart race as he closed his eyes and struggled to get away. "Sammy! Sammy! It's me son, it's dad!" his father yelled and Sam stilled at the familiar voice. His dad, it was just his dad. He let out a breath slowly as he opened his eyes to see John watching him, holding him by his forearms. He nodded that he was okay, or that he understood, he wasn't sure which.   
Dean came into sight then, emerging from the bathroom with a wet face cloth. That concerned fear gave Sam such a rush of relief that he nearly flew off the bed just to get to the other boy. He didn't move though, he sat there and flinched out of his father's grip. John let him go, with an expression that seemed to combine concern and hurt. Sam looked away, to his brother as Dean approached the bed, feeling guilty for the way he reacted to his dad.   
"You ok?" Dean asked as he folded the cloth into a long strip and gently laid it at the back of Sam's neck where it soothed him the most. He relaxed a little as a trickle of water ran down his back, underneath his shirt. He suddenly realized how hot he was and shoved at the covers. "I'm fine," he said quietly as he picked at a stray thread, not meeting either of their eyes.   
John nodded, willing to let it go for now, it was only the second night and he had expected nightmares to torment his youngest. He pushed down the sting of being rejected by Sam and turned to the door resolutely. "Where are you going?" Dean asked automatically though his attention was still directed at Sam. "Out, need some air," was all that John said before departing for the Impala. He figured that if he drove around the block a few times, then Sammy will have gone back to sleep when he returned.   
Back in the room, Dean fixed his younger brother with a gentle stare until the boy finally looked up, clearly irritated with the attention. "What? It's not like this is anything new. I've had nightmares before," he pointed out as he removed the cloth from his neck, the water having soaked the neck of his shirt. He toyed with it while he waited for Dean to say something. "Sammy, this isn't like any other time. It took like ten whole minutes to get you to wake up, dad was shaking you and everything. We were both yelling at you and still…" he didn't like to be seen as anything but macho but right then Dean couldn't help but feel very small. This was a problem he didn't know how to handle, he wondered how Sam did it sometimes.   
"Dean, I'm ok," Sammy said as he assumed that brave persona that Dean was growing to hate. "Look, they're just nightmares, they'll go away in time, right?" he said with a determined look. Dean looked at him skeptically for a moment before looking away. That was all the answer he could give without lying to Sammy, but that was also all the answer Sam needed. "You don't think they'll go away?" he asked and Dean was sure he could detect a hint of fear in that small voice.   
The protective older brother in him had to allow this one lie and so he turned towards Sammy and made eye contact, being careful not to look away. "I think that yes, they will go away, but who knows how long it will be until they do," he nodded, pleased that he hadn't exactly lied to Sam. Sam seemed to consider this before his shoulders slumped and he looked towards the door. "What about dad?" he asked, without really knowing what he was asking.   
Dean nodded, understanding Sam's question completely. "Look Sammy, you…you were attacked, and that's gonna do stuff to your head. Dad understands," he promised and put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam nodded then looked down at the hand that laid on him. He wondered why Dean's contact didn't bother him, he almost wanted it to. Why would Dean's touch not affect him, and yet his dad's did? He couldn't figure it out and he was still too tired to try.   
"But Dean, what if this goes on for a long time, and then it gets to the point where I can't ever have him touch me again? What happens then?" he asked, trying to make conversation to stave off going back to sleep. The thought made him shudder, but he realized it too late. Dean looked at him with the concern that had left moments ago. "Hey, what was that?" he asked as the hand drifted down to rest on Sam's arm.   
"I, just talk to me will ya?" Sam said without really saying anything. Dean shook his head, wondering how many more new aspects of Sam he would have to interpret. "Ok, well if it keeps up…dude, don't worry it probably won't. I mean it's only been a few days since…" he still couldn't think of it and he hadn't even experienced it. He looked at Sam and felt immense pride balloon in his chest at how well Sammy seemed to be coping…aside from the nightmares.   
"Yeah," was all Sam said as he went back to toying with that stray string. The silence stretched out awkwardly and Sam realized that for once his train of thought was at a standstill. He marveled at the blank canvas that was his mind and allowed his eyes to sparkle. It was blissfully invigorating not to have a single thought in his mind and he could only wonder how long it would last. He felt that delight plummet as he realized that he was thinking again, thinking about how long he could go without thinking.   
"Well, it's late, you should get back to sleep," Dean said casually but Sam startled anyway. He looked away from Dean, down to his hands fiddling with the cloth once again. He couldn't help but see his bandaged wrists and cringed at the thought of dreaming about how they got like that. "Um, Dean, you know…we don't have to-um, I mean," he tried but no explanation sounded good enough, and he ended up stuttering through it. Dean nodded with a smile, "easy Sammy, we don't have to go to sleep right now."   
Sam relaxed at that, then felt that familiar heat gather in his cheeks and he knew he was blushing. He hated it when Dean read him so well with that cocky smile in place. This one was tinged with a gentle understanding though, so Sam allowed his mind to relax.   
"Ok then, if we aren't gonna sleep then we might as well watch something," Dean aid as he grabbed the remote and moved around to his side of the bed. Sam drew in a breath then let it out easily as he grabbed his book from the nightstand. Dean rolled his eyes then turned the channel a few times. Sam ignored him and devoted all of his attention to his book. Reading a few lines he felt his heart start racing with sick realization, and turned the book over with shaking hands. The cover read 'Oliver Twist' in bright golden letters and Sam felt his stomach clench.   
His distress was evident to Dean who instantly started asking him what was wrong. Sam couldn't find the words though, as he stared horrified at the book. _"Max run! Go get help!" _He could feel himself start to shake but couldn't still his limbs for the life of him. A familiar taste rose in his mouth and he could feel his stomach curl.   
He didn't remember running to the bathroom but soon he found himself on the cold tiled floor, emptying his stomach into the porcelain bowl. He'd never felt so sick, he was sure of it. He tried to stop but his stomach clenched and betrayed him as he heaved what little food he had eaten that day. The effort brought tears to his eyes and soon he was sobbing.   
"Shhh," he head someone soothe and was relieved when his stomach muscles relaxed. He wallowed the taste and cringed, squeezing his eyes shut hard. "Breathe, you're ok," Dean said from behind him and Sam felt a familiar hand on the back of his neck. "Dean," he whimpered as he pulled away from the toilet, avoiding the sight of its contents. He felt weak and tired and sick, and all of it was barreling down on him at once.   
"You ok?" Dean asked as he turned Sam gently to look at him. His brother was pale and shaking, though he was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Dean tried to avoid the question of what had set Sam off, but looking at the state he was in now, he found himself wanting to know. He moved to wet the cloth again then returned to Sam on the floor when it was soaked and then wrung out. "Here," he said as he draped the cloth over the back of Sam's neck. The boy closed his eyes in relief as the cool wetness of the cloth seeped into him, absorbing the heat that ravaged his body.   
Dean frowned and felt his brother's forehead. Sammy was hot to the touch and Dean couldn't stop the worry that consumed him. "Hang on, I'll be right back," he said quickly as he left to get a glass of water for Sammy. When he returned Sam had the cloth pressed to his forehead and Dean had to wonder if another headache had attacked the boy. "Here, drink this," he said coaxingly as he kneeled down in front of Sam. Sam obeyed easily while Dean took the cloth and rewet it.   
"Ok, do you think you can move?" Dean asked as he took both Sam's hands in his. Sam swallowed then nodded and moved to stand. He was shaky but together they managed to get to the bed with little trouble. "Here, lie down," Dean said as he pulled the covers down farther. Sam practically fell into bed with no sound at all. Once Dean was back on his side, he gingerly stroked Sam's hair and set the cloth across his neck. The other boy had rolled towards him, his eyes closed. "You should get some sleep," Dean said as he pushed Sam's hair back. Even in the dim light from the bedside table, he could tell Sammy's skin was flushed. He moved then to fetch some Tylenol from the kit, and when he came back Sammy still hadn't moved. Glass and pills in hand Dean moved close to Sam on the bed and nudged his brother with the hand that held the pills. "Sammy, sit up, I want you to take these," Dean ordered and waited for Sam to comply. It took about a minute for Sam to sit up enough to swallow the pills and water, and once he did he fell right back down in exhaustion.   
Unable to sleep now, Dean sat with his back against the headboard, watching television until John came home. When their dad finally did arrive, Dean had fallen asleep sitting up, the T.V. was on and Sammy slept with his head pillowed on Dean's lap. 

**Hey guys, wow that was a long chapter. Ok, so lots of suffering for Sammy here, and more to come, unfortunately. But with suffering comes compassion from Dean, lotsa fluffy moments in the near future, uh, the stuff with their dad and Sam will be address pretty soon, but right now I think it's a little too soon, cause even though it doesn't seem like it it's only been a few days since Sammy was attacked. So, thanx for your patience, you've all been great and keep reviewing and reading, you make my day! Hope you liked this chapter, tell me if you do!**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 

A week went by, dragged on in the heat of the summer, and wrung out in nights full of dreams. Sam had nearly stopped talking altogether, avoiding conversation as much as possible. A nod, or glare told his answers to his family, more than his words could have. He shut down and gave up and was unknowingly scaring his family into greater action. Talk of help from a specialist arose but was quickly quashed by the boy in question. He insisted that he was fine and threatened to run from them if they tried to send him to any kind of doctor.

It was at this point, one mere week later that Dean knew they weren't getting out of this easily or any time soon. Sam was getting unpredictable and his behaviour changed almost hourly. In a second he could go from being sullen and angry to being scared and panicky. The mood swings Dean could always deal with, even when John could not, it was the other stuff that brought Dean's heart down to his stomach. It was those times when Sam would stare out into nothing for hours on end, lost in his own mind, unwilling and unable to come back. It was those times when Sam would jerk away from Dean if he tried to hold onto him too long, or would cling to him, needing something Dean was uncertain he could provide.

It was those times Sam watched their father clean the knives with a new facination.

Driving seemed to be the best thing they could do, and so they drove. They drove through towns and cities and countries and worried about nothing. It was then, in the safety of the Impala when Sam was most like himself again. He would grin and joke with Dean, banter with him about the stupidest things, things that held no meaning or importance.

They were driving through another back water town on their way to nowhere when Sam started up a conversation with the most startling of questions. "What did you think when you saw me?" he asked, his hand on his knees, his eyes distant but focused. Dean turned his head to look at him as his heart began a faster beat. "You mean…that day?" he asked trying to stall the conversation for a moment longer. Sam nodded and looked at him, all curious eyes and innocent expressions.

Dean took a breath before answering, he didn't think this was the time or the place for this but if Sam was asking….

"I didn't know really, I just saw your hands and your eyes and I knew something bad had gone down," it wasn't perfect, but it was all he had. "Why do you ask?" he said not taking his eyes off the road. Sam shifted uneasily beside him but didn't answer. "Did you ever think something like this would happen to us?" he asked turning his head to stare out the window. "No," was Dean's simple answer and Sam turned to him, surprised. "Why not?" he asked, unaware of the effect his questions were having on Dean. His brother just looked at him and said "because you never expect these things to happenSammy, but they do."

An hour later Sam had fallen into a fitful slumber, his head on Dean's shoulder, his brother's arm slung around him. When Dean's cell rang it startled the other boy into wakefulness and the peace was broken. He pulled away slowly as Dean flipped his cell open and talked to their dad. Sam tuned out the conversation and turned to look outside the window. They were driving through another small town, and the sun had retreated from the sky, leaving clouds the color of orange and pink in it's wake.

Sam remembered when he used to love watching sunsets. Seemed like ages ago.

They pulled into a motel, Dean getting out to stretch while Sam merely stood beside the Impala, waiting for their dad to get back with the room key. "So, you wanna eat out or order in?" Dean asked as he laced his fingers over the roof of the car, directing all of his attention at Sam. Sam closed his eyes against the concerned gaze of his brother and wished that they would stop asking him when they knew the answer.

He opened his eyes and in a fit of rebellion answered "out, let's go out." He knew that Dean hadn't expected that answer, that he asked to force Sam into making a decision regarding all of them, but it was still a sweet victory to see Dean surprised. The other boy's eyebrows raised and his eyes lit up with delight. "Alright, that's my boy!" he said happily as his hands beat the roof of the car in a drumming rhythm. He took this as a good sign that Sammy wanted to go out, and chose to see it as a victory, however small.

"Hey dad!" Dean called as he watched John walk towards them, "Sammy says we're eating out!" Sam cringed at the victory in his brother's voice. He knew he'd regret the sudden decision, but he wanted to break free from the darkness that was slowly claiming him.

He knew what his mood was doing to his well being, even if his dad and brother didn't. He was tired, all the time, his sleep not at all restful. He often awoke feeling like he had just gotten to sleep. He saw the evidence of his restless sleep everyday when he managed to catch his reflection in the mirror.

He hated to see himself reflected in the glass nowadays. It wasn't the same face that smiled back at him anymore, it was an expression of abuse and fear and leftover violation. It was the face of a victim and Sam couldn't bear to see it.

They drove to a small diner that belonged to a 'Millie' judging by the neon sign. Sam sighed as ho got out of the car, his actions almost automatic. He felt as if he didn't know how to live anymore, like the knowledge he had gained in the past thirteen years had been forgotten. He moved inside the small diner cautiously, taking in his surroundings. Not too many people were present, but there were still people.

Sam found himself being pushed into a chair by Dean, who gave him a look as if to say 'you still here?' Sam shifted under his brother's gaze and realized that his dad was asking him something. "Huh?" he asked as he directed his attention to John. "I said, what made you decide to eat out?" it was an honest question, since they had been ordering in for the past week. "Oh, umm, just thought we could get out. You know, we practically live in the car and in the rooms, it's a change." He didn't even know what he was saying but the words tumbled out of his mouth anyway.

Dean was looking at him in that way again. He could feel his brother's stare as he picked up a menu and flipped through it absently. He didn't even realize that the waitress had come and was now expecting an answer from him. "Oh uh, I…" he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do, and the helplessness took over quickly, as did the loss of his verbal abilities. He wanted him to giver her his order. But what did he want? He didn't know, but a million words passed through his mind as his vision blurred. Closure, revenge, to forget. Forget the hands, the face, the body that had violated him so viciously.

Hands gripped him again. They were shaking him, their hold was tight and their fingers dug into his shoulders. He didn't realize he was on the ground until he looked up at Dean.

What the hell?

"Dean?" he asked in confusion as he took in his brother, dad and a very concerned looking waitress. "Sammy, you with us?" Dean asked nervously. He had one hand behind Sam's head, holding it up inches off the ground, the other was fisted in the fabric of Sam's sweater. Sam nodded and let himself be pulled into a sitting position. He was just staring to come back to himself when hands gripped him again.

A panic rose in his chest and he fought against those hands, struggling to get out of their grip. "No! No!" he yelled as he kicked and connected with something solid. "Dad! Let him go!" he heard his brother yell, and with that yell brought back a reality that was suddenly very, very clear. His dad held him by his forearms still on the floor, the waitress still watched and Dean….

Dean had his hands on John's arms, pulling. Dean, whose eyes were full of worry and concern. "He's gonna hurt himself!" he heard John exclaim as the hand held him still.

"Dean," Sam said in a small voice. Dean pulled John all the way away from Sam and scrambled on the floor to get to his baby brother. He didn't know what happened or what had set Sam off, he just knew that Sam had called for him, that Sam wanted him. He had him in his arms in a second, holding on tight, but in a way that made Sam feel safe instead of trapped. He latched on to Dean like a drifter latches on to a lifebelt.

Dean looked at his dad, silently asking him what to do. "Get him to the car Dean," he said gruffly and then turned to the waitress who was quite startled by the whole display.

Dean blocked out everything else, the patrons, the waitresses, everything but Sammy. He lifted the boy with him as he stood and let Sam have a minute to steady himself on his feet. With an arm securely around his brother's waist, Dean made for the exit.

Once they got to the car, safely inside, Dean held onto Sam for all he was worth. Sam reciprocated by locking his arms around his brother as if he never planned on letting go. "You wanna tell me what happened in there?" Dean asked softly as he rested a hand on Sam's head. He didn't know quite how to handle this, Sam wasn't crying or shaking, he was just holding on. "I don't know," Sam replied as he pulled away reluctantly. "One minute I was fine, and then I just…went somewhere else," he said as he looked up into Dean's eyes. He could see the concern there, and it only made him sadder.

Dean let out a breath, swiping a hand over his face in frustration. "You know kiddo, you're really starting to scare me," he said quietly as he looked back at Sam. Sam could feel a sting in his eyes and soon Dean blurred beneath his vision. "I know! I just don't know what to do! I don't know what to do Dean! I can't do this!" he yelled in despair and felt a sob escape with the last word. He felt hopeless in his quest to recover, worrying that he never would.

"Sam , dad's gonna want you to see somebody. Especially after this little incident here," Dean said gently, knowing Sam would be outraged at the thought. Sam's shoulders dropped, defeated, surprising Dean. "Dean I don't wanna talk to anyone about this," he despaired in a small whining voice. He knew he sounded childish and pathetic, but the idea of conversing with a stranger over the violation of his body was not an appealing idea at all.

Dean relented, nodding and taking a deep breath. "Dude, we gotta start doing something about this. If you won't talk to a pro will you start talking to me? Cause, you gotta get this off your chest and out of your mind Sammy. I mean, look what happened here, we lost you there for a few seconds."

Sam looked at him with wet pleading eyes, "Dean please don't make me talk to anyone." Dean sighed and looked through the window to their father who was at the front counter talking to one of the waitresses. "Tell you what? I'll get dad to drop the whole therapy thing, if you talk to me. But Sam the next time this happens, we gotta go pro." He offered and Sam eagerly took it, his eyes thanking Dean without words.

"Deal?" Dean asked extending his hand to Sammy. "Deal," Sam replied thickly and slid his hand into Dean's to grasp and shake it firmly.

Dean wondered if he was doing the right thing, but the naked fear on Sam's face at the mention of professional help, told Dean that he was.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 

Later that night, Sam waited patiently outside their newest accommodations, for Dean to finish talking with their dad. His heart beat wildly in his chest at the thought of being forced into seeing a shrink. He stood leaning on the rusted railing just outside the door, unconsciously afraid to go any farther. He wondered again how long it would take to get back to himself. It certainly felt like it would never happen, that he would be stuck in the loop of moodiness and hidden fears emerging at their own will.

The door opening startled him out of his reverie and he turned to see Dean come up to stand beside him. "So what'd he say?" Sam asked and then tried to swallow the lump of anticipation that had lodged itself in his throat. Dean gave him a tired smile and replied "he agreed to let you talk to me instead of a pro, but he was really struggling with it Sammy. You gotta try with me ok?"

"I will," Sam promised almost automatically. Relief swelled as the weight of the unknown was lifted from his chest. He grinned and looked out over the expanse of the parking lot. It was dark, but the headlights of passing cars illuminated the road and Sam found himself staring almost dazed as they passed. Afraid that he was slipping back into that foreign place where he had no control, he jerked his head towards Dean, "so that's it? I just have to talk to you and he'll leave me alone?"

"Well…he wants you to talk to him about it too."

Dean knew Sam would object to the order but he didn't expect the small look of fear on his little brother's face. "Sam?" he asked as he waved a hand in front of Sam's face, snapping the boy out of his stare.

"I have to talk to dad? About….that?" he asked in a small voice as he continued to stare at Dean.

"Yeah, but don't worry so much kiddo, he probably won't force you."

Dean didn't realize his poor choice in words until he saw Sam flinch and turn away slightly. _Force…violate, rape _the words ran wild in Dean's mind as he thought of how Sam might have been affected by it.

"Sam…I-I didn't…" he couldn't bring the sentence to his mind, couldn't even find the apology as the horror of the situation made itself known once again. "It's ok," Sam said as he waved his hand in a dismissing gesture. Not one to draw out awkward moments, Dean scrambled for something else to say.

"So…" oh yes, that was profound, he thought and brought a hand up to cover his face.

"So what?" Sam asked, watching him still. Dean drew in a breath and looked at Sam hard. "You will talk to me won't you? This isn't one of those 'I'll avoid it until Dean forgets' right?

Sam sighed. "Yeah, just….just don't expect any miracles okay?" Dean smiled and slung an arm around Sam's shoulders. "Miracles? In this family? Sammy have you learned nothing over the years?" it was meant to cheer the boy up with a little joke between them. Sam smiled a small smile, unsure what else to do. "Yeah."

A few hours later found the boys laying in their bed watching an old black and white western, which Dean had great fun criticizing. He'd mock the timing of the shooting and hitting and point out any and every defect in the way the cowboys shot their pistols. Sam smiled at Dean's critique and occasionally rolled his eyes or shook his head with a small chuckle.

When John got up from his seat at the end of the other bed and headed for the door, Sam looked to Dean for explanation. The other boy offered none, and instead watched as their dad grabbed his coat and shrugged it on. "You boys behave alright? I gotta go out for a while."

Dean could feel Sammy's eyes on him, studying his movements, and so he was careful to keep his expression perfectly neutral. With a soft click their dad was gone and the boys were alone. Sam turned away, back towards the television, his face blank. Dean let out a breath thinking he was in the clear and then…

"That was subtle."

A little jump form his brother indicated to Sam that he had gotten one up on Dean. His brother played dumb though, hoping still to get away with it, and asked "What?" Sam crossed his arms and adopted a smart alec expression. "Dean please, dads gone, just you and me? Perfect opportunity to talk right?" that grin never left Sam's face as he watched Dean. His brother seemed to back down, giving up easily for once.

"Ok yeah, that was what he was thinking, but Sam we don't have to-"

"No it's ok. So uh, what do you wanna know?" Sam asked, as if he was getting ready to relay information to their dad about a hunt, and not getting ready to recount his attack.

Dean sighed as he looked at Sammy. Those eyes were guarded, holding in the emotion behind them, masking it with a cool and calm demeanor. Dean shook his head slightly, this wasn't the time to talk about this. He wasn't going to interrogate Sammy, this wasn't information gathering, or fact finding. Sam had to want to tell, and right now, Dean could clearly see that he didn't want to. He looked at Sam again with a tight smile, "you know what? Forget it, we can talk later."

Sam stared at him, taken aback for a moment before asking "what? Why?"

The boy looked like he genuinely didn't know why Dean was backing off, which inclined Dean to answer instead of dismissing Sam. "Sammy, this isn't an interrogation, I'm not gonna drill you on this." Sam furrowed his eyebrows in determination and looked hard at Dean, "Dean you're not-"

"It's fine Sammy, another time okay?" Dean interrupted with a soft reassuring smile. Sam couldn't help but feel bad, knowing that Dean was trying and he was not. "Dean, if you're waiting for me to come to you…" Dean stopped him with a raised hand, "that's not what this is. I'm not dad Sammy, I know you better than that. You won't come to me unless I guilt you into it. Listen, we…we'll just do this some other time ok?"

He couldn't really argue, and so Sam nodded and turned his head back towards the television. "So now what?" he asked lightly, trying to shift the atmosphere from strained to comfortable. "Now? We order pizza," Dean responded easily, without looking in Sam's direction. "Pizza? That's your solution. Dean is food all you think about?" Sam asked with a smile, aware that the banter had returned and the mood had shifted.

Hours later, an empty pizza box lay at the end of the bed, half filled glasses sat on the end tables, and the boys were absently watching reruns of Mash. Thoughts had been stirring in Sam's mind all evening. He'd sneak glances at Dean but his brother seemed intent on his decision not to push Sam. His chest tightened at the list he had gathered in his head of all the things Den had been doing for him. Mediating between him and dad, offering comfort when it was wanted and backing off when it wasn't, just being there. He looked over at Dean again, but he had not moved. They both sat with their backs against the headboard, Dean with his arms bent behind his head, his head resting comfortably in his hands, his legs crossed at the ankles. Sam sat similar to his brother, with the exception of his arms laying folded across his chest.

Sam swallowed tightly as another thought entered his mind, one that had been nagging him and bringing forth feelings of guilt and shame. He looked out of the corner of his eye at Dean and decided he needed to say something now.

He thought about what he would say, when Dean finally did ask. Would he spare his brother the gory details of his attack, or would he offer up the truth and deal with what cam after. He stared at a spot on the wall, behind the television and decided to start at the beginning.

"I knew something was off, when Max saw that his dad was home."

The statement startled Dean and he turned his head sharply to look at Sam. He realized that this was it, that Sam was ready to talk and despite the late hour, Dean was ready to listen. He reached for the remote and turned off the t.v. before turning all his attention on the youngest Winchester.

"Max, he was different all of a sudden. He got all tense and...scared. I didn't really know what was wrong but I knew that his dad was a part of it. He was…mean. I know that sounds weak but he was. He sounded cruel when he talked, and he had this smile…like he knew something you didn't and he about to use it against you. I kinda wish he was a demon."

Dean took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "There's the rub isn't it? Demons have patterns and don't want anything but death. People….people are just crazy Sammy." The words felt true but they wrung hollow to both Winchesters.

"Yeah," Sammy said softly as he turned his gaze down at his hands that were wringing themselves together like some nervous dance. He tried but he couldn't stop them from tangling together because of an emotion he couldn't define.

"Sam," Dean prodded gently, but when that elicited no reaction he asked in the softest tone he could manage "talk to me baby."

The use of the old pet name brought Sam out of his silent pondering and he looked at Dean with something akin to resignation. "Jake…that was his name…he grabbed me…and…he…" it was getting harder. He could feel his throat tighten at the memories that assaulted his mind, pushing their way in violently and shoving out any remnant of safety. Sam had to swallow to keep from getting sick again.

"Sammy, we can stop, if this is too much right now…"

"No. I'm fine. He had me, locked me in a choke hold and I yelled. I yelled for Max to run, to go and get help, but…but he wouldn't. He wouldn't even move Dean! He just stood there!" Sam yelled in a sudden rush of anger for the other boy.

"Sammy…"

"No! why didn't he run! Why didn't he? He could have run and gotten help, but he didn't! Why didn't he do anything Dean? Why! He should have did what I told him! He should have done something!" He found the words and the emotions too much just then. Even when Dean pulled him into his embrace and held him still, with a hand in his hair and the other rubbing circles on his back he couldn't comprehend. Even when he heard his brother's words "Sammy, it's ok. It's gonna be ok, I'm here. God…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry baby," he couldn't see past one thought.

"Dean…Max is dead isn't he?"


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 

"_Dean…Max is dead isn't he?"_

Dean froze, feeling certain that his heart stopped in the middle of a beat, at Sam's broken question. How could he have known? How could he possibly know? Dean tightened his grip on his baby brother, crushing him against his chest in his panic at that question. He and dad had been so careful…or so they had thought. Had they given it away somehow? Had the fact that they didn't talk about it given it away? Dean swallowed the growing lump in his throat and finally pulled Sam away at arm length.

Those green orbs were swimming in a sea of unshed tears. Dean hated this expression the most, the one that begged not to be lied to, the one that already knew the answer to questions just asked. Emerald eyes told all, but still Dean felt the need to shield Sam.

"Sam…I…I don't think this is the right time to-"

"Don't avoid me Dean," Sam interrupted, having realized that Dean would want to protect him from the truth. "Sammy…" Dean pleaded, but Sam was resigned and angered by Dean's avoidance. "Just tell me! He's dead isn't he?"

Dean felt his shoulders slump in defeat and those green eyes so full of hurt told him that he needed to be straight with Sam on this one. He took a breath and prepared himself for the outcome, whatever it may be. "Yes Sam…he's…Max is dead," he practically whispered in his regret. Sam seemed to crumble at the news and brought a hand up to cover his face. Dean could see Sam struggling not to cry, not to breakdown, and he hated John in that moment for drilling into them the idea that emotions were something to be ashamed of and hidden. Dean reached out a hand and placed it lightly on Sam's shoulder, afraid that the kid would break underneath his touch. Sam only lent into the firm grip slightly and tried to calm himself.

"Sammy…" he tried, but what could be said really? Max was a good kid, a good friend to Sam…and now….it was hard to think of him as gone. Dean remembered the way he smiled, the way he laughed, the way he spoke…he hated that he hadn't seen the problem sooner. It scared Dean a bit, how well the boy was able to conceal his home life. He thought about all the times that he and his dad had gotten Sam to lie to authority figures and how good Sam was at it. He felt himself shiver at the memories and tried to refocus on Sam.

"Sammy…can I do anything? For you I mean?" he felt useless just sitting there, watching his brother break slowly. Sam bit his bottom lip and looked up at Dean with shining eyes. "Just…" he couldn't even finish what he was going to say. The tightening of his throat alone made him want to scream, but the thought that Max would never smile or laugh or live again, is what strangled Sam.

He tried to push away the events of that day and remember who the boy really was. He loved chocolate ice cream, especially when Dean would drive him and Sam down by the water to eat it. Sam almost smiled at the memories, but was saddened at the thought that they were now the only thing he had left of what had been his best friend. He looked up at Dean for a second, and he knew that that wasn't true. Max was his best friend, but Dean was his first. It had always been him and Dean against the world, but Max…Max had crept into that world, and he had stayed for quite some time. Enough time for Sam to know his favorite ice cream, color and book. Sam bit his lip at the thought that he was probably the only person in the world that really knew max.

"Sam?" Dean prodded, trying to get the boy out of his reverie. Sam snapped to attention and looked at Dean for a second before nodding and casting his eyes downward. "Sammy, let me do something," Dean pleaded taking Sam's shaking hands in his own and holding them tight, trying to still the tremors. Sam looked at his pillow as fatigue crept over him. "Just…lie with me," he aid quietly and looked up at Dean with pleading eyes. He was so tired.

Dean nodded with a gentle smile and gently pushed Sam down to lay his head on the pillow there. Sam exhaled shakily as Dean lay down with him, trying to calm himself enough to sleep.

Thoughts raced around, chasing each other in Dean's head. Thoughts of Max and Sam and Jake. Thoughts of tape and knives and violence. He couldn't stop them, but he could ignore them. He turned his head to look at Sam who was just staring at the ceiling, dazed and sad. He couldn't imagine what the other boy must be feeling. Max was a friend, a link to the world that Sam had fought hard to hold onto. Now, that link was gone, and it was just them again. When he heard Sam choke back a sob he made up his mind and slid an arm underneath Sam's shoulders. He pulled his brother to him and tucked him against his side protectively. Sam went willingly, latching onto Dean like he was the last lifeline that Sam had left. Dean felt Sam's body relax and he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

A couple hours later and John still hadn't returned. Dean now sat against the headboard with the remote in his hand, and his little brother in his lap. Sam lay still, arm around Dean's legs, holding on even in sleep. Dean felt at peace for the first time in weeks.

"How did it happen?"

And just like that, the calm was broken. Dean tried not to startle too much at Sam's abrupt question, but he thought that his brother was asleep. "Sam…" he started but Sam was ready for his avoidance, "Dean you said you wanted to do something, so tell me."

Dean sighed and resigned himself to telling Sam as gently a possible. "Dad…he said it looked like he hit his head. He was already gone when Dad got there Sammy," he said as Sam sat up to look at him. "He didn't hit his head Dean. Jake…" but the words would come for the youngest Winchester. He couldn't bring himself to say what Jake had done for the life of him.

"Sammy, I'm sorry…I…I don't know what else to say kiddo."

"Dean…do you think Jake ever…did to Max what he did to me?" Sam asked in a small reluctant voice. Dean felt a tremor go up his spine at the thought. He could tell how sickened Sam was to think about it, but the possibility was very real. He couldn't bring himself to lie and sugar coat the truth, but he couldn't let Sammy hear that either.

"I don't know Sammy. We'll never know now, but…Max…he's at peace now. You gotta hold onto that Sammy…leave out all the rest."

"Yeah," Sam said in a whisper.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 

Ah the best laid plans, Dean shook his head as he reviewed his brother's behavior over the past few days. Sam had been quiet and withdrawn when he was sure Dean wasn't looking and faking a smile when he was. Dean didn't know what to make of this turn of events and John had pretty much given up trying to be extra considerate of Sam's feelings. No more egg shell walking for the Winchester men, that was for sure. Now the only problem was this illusion of happiness Sam was projecting. It didn't make sense, Dean thought that things would have improved if he talked to Sam more and more about the…attack.

Maybe that was the problem right there, Dean thought as he twirled his pencil while watching Sam. His younger brother was reading one of the books he had gotten from the library, a classic no doubt. As he watched Sam read, he took notice of the boy's eyes. They were blank nowadays, devoid of any true emotion unless the kid forced some feeling into them.

The word "rape'' was almost a taboo in the Winchester household. Whenever it was brought up it was always noted as the attack, or the incident, never the most naked word used to describe the ordeal. Dean figured it had been a good idea at the time, not to say the word, but in that, was he delaying the recovery process for Sam by acting like it wasn't what it was? Dean pinched the bridge of his nose as these thoughts whirled through his mind.

"Stop it."

Looking up, he focused on Sam in surprise, "stop what?" he asked. "Thinking, I can hear you all the way over here," Sam replied without looking up from his novel. "Sammy…" he began, but no. This wasn't the place for the conversation he knew had to happen. "What?" the younger asked, suddenly looking up from his book expectantly. Dean drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering "nothing."

This couldn't go on, but Dean didn't know how to push just enough to get Sam to open up completely. He hated the thought of forcing Sam to deal with something so horrific, but, looking at him now…Dean knew that his choices were running out.

Sam's eyes were rimmed a very faint red, from what Dean didn't know. If Sam had been crying, Dean sure as hell didn't know about it. He wondered now if Sam grieved the loss of his innocence when he thought that his family wasn't looking. The thought made Dean's chest ache and when he drew in a breath he felt it catch in his chest. He couldn't bare the thought of Sammy in that kind of pain, and going through it alone.

Suddenly the library seemed like too much. It's walls felt closer and the air felt thicker, pressing in on Dean as he fought internally to regain some semblance of control.

Across the table Sam was battling his own tide of emotions. He longed to tell Dean the truth, every gory detail of his attack, his rape, but, looking at his older brother now…he couldn't. He couldn't tell him how Jake had thrust into him from behind, how the tape had twisted on his wrists as he tried to break free, how his blood stained those sheets. He just couldn't do that to Dean.

Survivors, no matter how hard they try to move on are still only victims in the end, victims of random acts of violence. Sam cringed at the thought of being called either, wishing that it would just go away and never ever make itself know again.

Dean wanted him to share, to unburden himself of the grizzly truth, but he didn't want to know, Sam as convinced. He could just imagine what his brother would say when he found out exactly how it felt to have a grown man stretch you inside beyond your limits. Sam closed his eyes against the bile that rose in his throat.

He himself could deal with this….how could Dean think that he could?


End file.
